


Fortune's Vengeance

by Cougars_catnip



Series: The Seventh [4]
Category: Shadowrun, The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: All Is Not As It Seems, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Shadowrun Fusion, F/M, Original Characters - Freeform, Science fiction / fantasy, action adventure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2018-02-22 15:27:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 61,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2512592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cougars_catnip/pseuds/Cougars_catnip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>D'Agostino's bid to gain control of Judge Orrin Travis was ruined by Chris Larabee, aka Lobo, and the men of The Seventh. Now he is determined to make them pay and he has pulled out all the stops.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a direct sequel to Fortune's Hostage, if you haven't read that one first you need to. 
> 
> Shadowrun is twisted and full of intrigue and misdirection, but keep reading, all will become clear in the end. 
> 
> Also this story is violent and the boys language is colorful. 
> 
> Since Shadowrun is set in the future I have endeavored to define some of the more obscure slang and specialized businesses and occupations. Hopefully these will enhance your reading pleasure. Would you prefer to have it before or after the the story?
> 
> A huge thank you to my writer's group and betas for all the encouragement while I was writing this.

The Year is 2058

Magic has returned to the earth.

The ancient races of Elves, Dwarfs, Orks and Trolls have re-emerged. Technology has also changed, allowing man to augment his body with artificial enhancements called cyberware. These enhancements can make one faster, stronger and smarter than before. Mega-Corporations have become nations unto themselves while former national powers have reformed. The United States became the United Canadian-American States after the loss of much of the West to the Native American Nations and the South to the Confederate American States and Aztlan.

Technology and Magic co-exist in this Awakened World where awesome powers are kept in balance by those who run in the shadow world, those known as Shadowrunners.

The street samurai with his smartguns and impossibly fast reflexes; the decker who can plug his own brain into the worldwide computer network, slicing through computer security with programs as elegant and deadly as a stiletto; the rigger who links his mind to his vehicle and takes hairpin turns at fantastic speeds, his machines an extension of his very body; Mages and Shamans manipulate mana to bend the Awakened world and the astral plane to their will.

These Shadowrunners don’t just live in the shadows- they thrive there... for now.

 

 

 _sammy_ ~ slang for street samurai - aka. razor

 _SIN_ ~ System Identification Number. all citizens are issued a SIN SINless - one who lives off the grid.

 _Humanis_ \- one of the most powerful of the policlubs. It grew from an alliance of racist and hate groups aimed at “protecting humans against the rising threat of mutation”—mutation being Humanis-speak for metahumanity.

 _metahumanity_ \- any of the races other than human - orcs, trolls, elves and dwarves being the most common, but also including ghouls, vampires and the like.

 _HUA_ ~ Military slang for Heard, Understood, Acknowledged.

 _Dandelion Eater_ ~ street slang for elf. highly insulting

 _Troglodyte_ ~ Street slang for orcs and trolls. highly insulting. aka. Trog

 _UCASFBI_ ~ United Canadian and American States Federal Bureau of Investigation - The UCAS Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) is a governmental agency belonging to the UCAS Department of Justice that serves as both a federal criminal investigative body and an internal intelligence agency (counterintelligence).

 _Nuyen_ -  the official currency of the state of Japan. Most common accepted and most well back currency in the Awakened World.

 _Treaty City_ ~ AKA Denver - April 25, 2018: The United States of America, Canada, Aztlan, and the Native American Nations ratify the Treaty of Denver. Most of western North America is ceded to the NAN. Daniel Howling Coyote becomes head of the Sovereign Tribal Council. Denver is divided into districts under the jurisdiction of the United States, Aztlan, and the NAN member states.

 

Fortune's Vengeance

  _“That which does not kill us, may come back for seconds." ~ Cpl. Jake Jensen , UCAS Army- decker_

 

From the back of the dimly lit basement room, Special Agent Jase Sackett studied the assembled men with narrowed eyes. It was a fairly motley crew, but other than a couple of orc samurai, and Jase’s elven partner, they were all human. The mob in Denver it seemed, leaned more to the Humanis way of looking at metahumans. Of course they were as hypocritical about it as Humanis was, using them as assets whenever the situation called for it. Regardless of ‘purity,’ each and every one of these men is a stone cold killer. Harold Fagetti, D’Agostino’s chief enforcer now that Louis Carletti had been taken out, had spent considerable time and effort to put together this wet work team to eliminate a rival group of Shadowrunners.

The Seventh, led by a street sammy by the name of Lobo, had angered the local Don and now they were the target of a vendetta that wouldn’t stop until one or the other was dead. Jase wasn’t surprised when he and his partner, Corrine, had been tapped for the team, he because of his stealth and she for... well let’s just say when she exerted herself she was pretty damn hard to resist. And speaking of his partner she should have been here already. He tapped his finger against his leg as he glanced around the room, but there was still no sign of her. Fagetti was gonna be pissed if she didn’t show.

The crew had assembled in the basement of a restaurant owned by D’Agostino to get their assignments and now Fagetti was standing in the front of the room briefing his new team like this was some kind of business meeting. Jase snorted quietly, in a way he supposed it was.

“Some men cannot be broken. The Seventh are such men. There is only one solution for this,” Fagetti said, his voice echoing off the bare walls and dirty plascrete floor.

“What’s that?” One of the samurai called out.

The hit man turned cold dark eyes on the speaker. “You kill them, gentlemen. Except Stud. We have something… special planned for him.”

Jase squirmed surreptitiously. Even half hidden in the shadows, he didn’t want anyone noticing him fidgeting. It was just too dangerous to show any sign of discomfort or vulnerability around these men. He turned his head to watch when the same stupid idiot opened his fragging mouth and spouted off again. Fucker must have a death wish, ‘cause Fagetti did not look happy. And when Fagetti was unhappy things tended to die, slowly, painfully, and as sure as next year’s taxes.

“How are we supposed to do that? The fragger is always with the rest of his crew and you don’t go after the Seventh lightly.” The street sammy stared at Fagetti, his chromed cyber-eyes glittering in what little light was emitted by the bare bulbs hanging in the midst of the pipes and wires that hung from the support beams overhead.

“Cut him out of the herd. Take them down one at a time until he is alone. Do I have to do your job for you? Because if that is the case, please do let me know now so I can replace you. There is no room in this operation for idiots, Mr. Frazer.”

Frazer bristled at Fagetti’s tone, his body language screaming challenge.

“Well? What’s it to be Mr. Frazer?” The hit man stepped forward crowding the sammy back against the group of men standing behind him. A cold smile crossed his face, his body loose and ready for a fight if the razor pressed the issue.

Frazer took one look into his menacing eyes and backed down, his hands held out in front of him in a placating gesture. “No,” he said sullenly. “I’ll do my job. Just asking.”

The aura of violence faded as the situation diffused and Jase breathed a soft sigh of relief. Frazer really was an idiot if he thought he could take Fagetti without turning it into a blood bath and getting a whole lot of people killed. The hit man hadn’t risen to the top of the food chain by being incompetent at his job.

The crowd of men stirred when a woman came out on the minuscule landing above them and paused for a moment, as if posing, before sauntering down the narrow stairs. She was beautiful, a butterfly in a thorn patch, emerald green eyes sparkled with mischief, long strawberry blonde hair curled enticingly, framing delicate elven features and tumbling in glorious disarray down her shoulders and over her bosom. The gold embroidery of her coat glistened in the dim light, hugging luscious curves, and black leather pants caressed her long legs. Her slender form stood in marked contrast to the beefed up cybered bodies of the men. Jase grinned as his partner’s presence shifted the team dynamics. Revenge always could work a room. He gave a slight shake of his head when she glanced his way, letting her know he wanted to remain unnoticed. She threaded her way through the crowd, her hips swaying enticingly, completely cognizant of her effect on the assembled males. Making her way over to the table set up near the front of the room, she sat down on the edge, dangling one shapely leg. She smirked unrepentantly at Fagetti.

Fagetti narrowed his eyes speculatively as he studied her. “Everyone out. Revenge you stay.”

Jase shot her a furtive glance over his shoulder as he filed out with the others. ‘ _Tonight._ ’ he dared to subvocalize over their comlink. She blinked once and turned her attention to Fagetti.


	2. Chapter 2

Shadowrun n.-- Any movement, action, or series of such made in carrying out plans which are illegal or quasilegal. --WorldWide WordWatch, 2050 update

Lonestar Security ~ This mega corporation has taken over the job of local police departments.

H&K227 SMG -- Heckler and Koche 227-S Submachine Gun.

Ares Predator -- the most common heavy pistol found on the streets. The Predator is a heavy semi-auto pistol w/ smartlink.

chummer ~ street slang - friend or buddy.

Matrix - the internet has long been replaced by a 3D matrix with full emersion: to access it programmers (deckers) use a deck that plugs directly into their brain. The world within the matrix is controlled by the decker’s mind - with 3d representations of data and actions: It could look like a cartoon; a film noir... almost anything imaginable and a few, bend the imagery and data to their will.

jacker - Military slang for decker/ rigger. It is more usual to do one or the other, but not both.

null persp - street slang - no sweat. short for null perspiration.

DMZ - Demilitarized Zone - an area where combat is prohibited

 

Ch. 1

 

_When everything is going according to plan, expect an ambush.—Street proverb_

 

 

Ezra’s plane landed at precisely 2:40 but it was another 25 minutes of waiting for tired corpers, screaming brats and harried parents to clear the way before he, who was sitting in the second to the last row of the plane, could make his way down the aisle and into the terminal. He throttled down his impatient desire to use a force wave to clear his path, snickering at the image of the brat who had been sitting behind him plastered to the bulkhead. It would serve the little shit right for kicking his seat all the way from SeaTac to Denver. However, given that the boy’s mother was an orc, and might take physical exception to his teaching the child the value of good manners, he decided that perhaps discretion was better than revenge...just this once, no matter how satisfying it might be to teach the child a sharp lesson.

Once the immediate area around his seat was clear, he stood and shrugged into his navy blue suit coat, tugged down the sleeves of his pristine white shirt, and straightened his cobalt blue tie. He smoothed one hand over the tie which had been a gift from Mask. He had feebly protested the expenditure on real silk but she said it brought out the green in his eyes and wouldn’t take no for an answer. He smiled wistfully, missing her already. Then he reached up to the above compartment, gathered his carry on and made his way down the narrow aisle. He nodded politely to the flight attendant as he passed and free at last from the confines of the aircraft he made his way down the tunnel to the waiting area.

From there it was only a short walk over to baggage claim but the walkway was crowded with passengers coming and going so it took him longer than expected. His head ached from the cacophony of voices and intercoms announcing incoming and outgoing flights, and all he could think about was getting home and sitting down with a cup of real coffee and some peace and quiet. He nimbly dodged around a pile of luggage and a family standing in front of a callboard and threaded his way through the crowd before taking the escalator down to the ground floor. It was a little less crowded in this section of the terminal and everyone was going the same way so he made better time. As he rounded the last corner he was surprised to see a familiar duster and the lanky form of his fellow elven teammate waiting for him. Vin was casually leaning up against a pillar, cleaning his nails with a tiny pocketknife that looked harmless, but Ezra knew Vin and that little blade would be sharp enough to wound the wind. Vin straightened up when Ezra come into view and the small knife disappeared into the pocket of his well-worn jeans. He flipped his long golden-brown ponytail back over his shoulder as he moved away from the pillar and grinned a welcome.

Ezra flashed a quick smile as he strode over to join his partner while he waited for his luggage. “Falcon. This is a pleasant surprise. I did not expect to be picked up.”

“Hoi, Ace. Lobo called us in. Thought you might appreciate saving a few ‘yen on a cab.” He glanced over at his friend noting his relaxed stance. “So... how was Mask?” Vin grinned remembering his last meeting with the irrepressible Raccoon Shaman, and he couldn’t resist teasing his teammate a little bit given that Ezra had extended his visit with her at least twice before finally coming home to Denver. “We was kinda wondering if maybe you had decided to move up to Seattle for awhile.”

Ezra looked over at Vin and smirked. “Mask is quite well, and said to say hello.” He lapsed into uncharacteristic silence and pointedly watched for his bags to come around the conveyer belt.

Vin laughed as Ezra quite firmly ignored his attempt at drawing the fox shaman into revealing more about his vacation.

Ezra waited for his black leather suitcases to come around to their position and grabbed one before it could pass by. Vin snagged the other one and then they made their way out of the terminal to the parking garage and Vin’s ancient Jeep. Vin had parked in the back of the lot so it was a bit of a walk and Ezra’s feet were hurting by the time they got there.

Fifty feet from the car Vin suddenly stopped as the hair on the back of his neck rose. He reached out and snagged Ezra’s sleeve pulling him to his side. “Something’s wrong...”

With a roar the jeep disappeared in a ball of flames and twisted metal. The blast threw both men into the next aisle and they scrambled for cover as scorching hot debris rained down around them.

Ezra grabbed Vin’s shoulder as the other man stumbled back against a car. “Falcon! Are you hit?”

The phys ad shook his head and grimaced. “No, I was just listening too hard and now my ears are ringing. You ok?”

The fox shaman nodded grimly. “I’m fine.” He studied the parking lot with narrowed eyes, searching for anyone who might be laying in wait for them. “Call Lobo.” He thrust his pocket secretary into Vin’s hands. “I’m going astral to make sure there’s no one waiting for us. Watch my meat.” With that he sank down cross-legged and leaned against a wall, then he threw his spirit onto the astral plane.

As his spirit slipped free from his body a wave of pure mana slammed into him sending him crashing back into his body. His body convulsed and he fell over onto his side, his head smacking into the pavement with a thud that made Vin wince.

Vin cursed as the distinctive crack of gunfire rang out, echoing off the ceiling. He jumped to cover Ezra with his own body as bullets slammed into the car behind them. He pulled his armored duster over their bodies and flinched as two rounds impacted his back. The shock was dissipated by the kevlar weave in his jacket, but even still it was going to leave a mark. His lip curled in a silent snarl as he pulled his Predator from his shoulder holster and looked around trying to spot the shooter.

Whoever this fucker was he had come after the wrong men and Vin was determined to make him pay for that mistake. Another shot rang out and he growled as he located the muzzle flash. Sighting carefully he waited and then fired when the shooter popped up for another shot.

He gave a slight smile of satisfaction when he was rewarded with a scream and the dull thud of a body dropping to the ground. He scanned the area for any more assailants, but nothing moved and the feeling of being watched was fading rapidly, so he holstered his weapon and turned back to his fallen team mate.

Keeping one eye out for any more trouble, he opened one of Ezra’s bags and grabbed the first item on top to use to try and stop the bleeding. Head wounds always bled like a stuck pig and this one was no different. He held the shirt against the cut and pressed down until the bleeding slowed enough for him to apply a slap patch. Knowing his team the way he did he always carried one in his pocket, ‘cause sure as the sunrise someone was gonna need it sooner or later. He dug it out once the bleeding stopped and tore the package open with his teeth. Ezra’s hair was matted with blood and gravel and that made it even more difficult to get the patch to stick. He dabbed at the wound and picked as much of the gravel off as possible before finally giving up and pressing it into place as well as he could.

The sound of approaching sirens alerted him to Lonestar’s imminent arrival and since the last thing he wanted was to get caught up in an investigation, he pulled Ezra’s limp form over his shoulder, grabbed his bags, and faded into the shadows.

Vin made his way out of the garage and set Ezra down on an out of the way bench. He sat down next to the shaman and pulled him up to rest against his shoulder. To anyone looking they now looked like a pair waiting for the bus or a cab. He sighed with relief when a Lonestar patrol car passed them without a second glance. He felt around in his coat pocket until he located the pocket secretary Ezra had given him, then he called Chris and waited impatiently for him to pick up.

Chris answered the call in his typical fashion. “Yeah?”

“Lobo, we got trouble. Someone attacked us and blew up my jeep. We need someone to come get us and bring Prophet. Ace is hurt.” Vin ran his hand through dusty hair grimacing at the grimy feel.

“Sending Ferret. Where are you? How bad is Ace? Are you secure now?” The questions came fast and clipped.

“Over by the long term parking. Lot C. Can’t tell how bad Ace is. He smacked his head and we got tossed around in the explosion. I think it’s just a head wound but there could be something else and right now he is out of it. Yeah, we’re secure for now, but Lonestar is here so tell Ferret to hurry.”

“Will do. Hang tight. We’re on the way.”

Vin snapped the pocket secretary closed and stuffed it back in his pocket. He bundled up the now dirty shirt he had used to staunch the flow from Ezra’s wound and put it in an outside pocket of his suitcase, cause God knew Ezra would bitch up a storm if any blood got on the rest of his clothes. Vin smiled slightly at the thought then turned his attention back to their predicament. Ferret better hurry cause he had no way to clean the blood off his hands and it was pretty obvious to anyone who bothered to look closely that they had been in a fight of some sort. Hopefully he had gotten them far enough away from the center of the action that they would be over looked.

A soft groan in the vicinity of his shoulder alerted him to Ace’s somewhat reluctant return to consciousness. He smiled in relief as the fox shaman sat up a little straighter.

“Shit. What hit me?” Ezra asked.

“The pavement.” Vin said snarkily.

Ezra frowned. “I wish that had been all, however, something hit me the second I stepped into the astral.” He lifted a hand to his head and gingerly probed the area around the laceration. “Ow.”

“Leave it alone, Ace. Prophet’ll take care of it as soon as they get here.” Vin frowned at his partner’s attempts to scope out the damage to his head.

“ Do we have any idea when our illustrious companions will see fit to join the soiree?” Ezra looked over at Vin. When his neck complained at the angle he turned to face the physical adept, stifling another groan as his head throbbed in time with the beat of his heart as he moved.

Vin shrugged. “Lobo was snapping off questions faster than I could answer him. You know what that means.”

Ezra grinned. “Indeed. Mother Hen mode has been activated.” He chuckled wryly. “Given that fact, Ferret will be lucky if Lobo allows him to drive.” Vin laughed. “Good thing he doesn’t have a rigger jack huh?”

“I would say so. Dear Lord, the man is a menace behind the wheel in the best of times. When he is worried...” He shuddered theatrically. “I fear for all who share the road with him.”

Ezra exchanged a smile with his partner and then rolled his shoulders trying to loosen the muscles.

“Share?” Vin looked at him incredulously. “Lobo ain’t real well know for sharing.”

Ezra snorted. “Perhaps he was absent that day in kindergarten?”

The two men burst out laughing. Ezra winced as his headache intensified and smacked Vin’s arm. “OW! Don’t make me laugh.” In turn Vin clutched his ribs and wheezed as the chuckles escaped.

“Me? You started it!”

Ezra snickered. “Actually Lobo started it. Dear lord if that man has his way he will conclude that this was somehow our fault and we should not be let out of the house without adult supervision.”

They both abruptly sobered and looked suitably horrified at the thought.

“Shit,” Vin frowned. “He would, wouldn’t he?” “Knowing our fearless leader and his tendency to hover when one of us is incapacitated with more than a mere paper cut? Hell yes, he would.”

Ezra carefully shook his head.

“Damn it. I knew I should’ve got Ferret to come after you. Who the hell did you piss off in Seattle?”

Ezra glared and smacked Vin’s arm again. “Me? What makes you think I’m the target? It was your jeep they blew up.”

“Yeah, but I was here picking you up.” Vin’s brow wrinkled with worry. “Seriously, Ace. Did you piss someone off? Maybe do a little Running while you were up there or take on a side job?”

“No!” Ezra’s tone was firm, emphatic. “I was on vacation. I relaxed. Went dancing, spent time with my friends. That’s it.”

“But what about...” Ezra cut him off in mid-sentence. “Falcon! Leave it alone. I said no.”

“Fine, but you know Lobo is gonna ask.” Vin said mildly. He frowned as Ezra turned his back studiously ignoring him. It was very uncharacteristic of him and Vin wondered if something had gone wrong between his friend and Mask.

* O *

 

Fagetti turned a cold stare on Sal as he explained how the ambush on two of the Seventh had failed. Failed because the idiots had failed to take into account the amount of time it would take for the targets to get back to the car. Failed because they had used a timer in the first place rather than a remote trigger or a pressure plate. Failed because the sole survivor of the aborted hit had chosen to stay in safety in his room rather than accompany the shooter to the airport and therefore could not affect either target once the fox shaman had left the astral. Instead the idiot had watched helplessly as his partner had been cut down by the Seventh’s sniper. And then to compound the epic failure he had returned to his body to report rather than trail them back to their safe house. If there was anything Fagetti despised, it was incompetence, and this debacle was a prime example of that. Their patron, Paulo D’Agostino, was not a forgiving man and he wanted the Seventh and particularly their leader, Lobo, dead. It was Fagetti’s job to see to that and with his own life on the line he was not about to go back to the Don and say that it couldn’t be done. No, he would make this hit or die trying. To that end he had put together a team and if they could not do the job, there were others to chose from who could. He paced the room until he was behind the babbling mage and drew his pistol. Pumping two shots into the base of the man’s skull he turned and walked out of the room.

 

* O *

When Jase heard of Sal’s unfortunate... demise he spared a brief moment to contemplate what he had gotten himself into and the company he and his partner were being forced to keep. Fagetti was single minded to the point of obsession. The man was methodical, cold, calculating and deadly. In short, he was not a man you wanted to cross and yet it was their job to do so.

Jase sighed and made his way down the dim, dirty corridor of his flop house to his apartment. He frowned as the lights dimmed even more to a dirty brown and there was a crackle of a short in the wiring somewhere. Place was a fucking death trap waiting to happen! God, how he hated living in this sleazy run down shit hole. But the person he was right now wouldn’t be able to afford someplace nicer so he had to stoically deal with it. He pressed his thumb against the keypad and eased the door open. Waiting a heartbeat he listened carefully. Except for the wheeze of the elderly air conditioner there was no sound so he stepped inside and shut the door quietly. He made sure the door was secure before making his way to the bathroom, shedding his clothing along the way. After the day he’d had all he wanted was a hot shower, a meal and a cold beer. Unfortunately the meal and the beer would be delayed until he could meet with Revenge and get her take on the day and find out what Fagetti had wanted with her. Together he knew they could watch each other’s back, but separated they were way too vulnerable for this situation. His partner was brave to the point of recklessness sometimes, so he was use to watching over her and being the voice of reason. Being split up this way made him uneasy.

He stepped into the bathtub and leaned against the wall, letting the hot water pound on his neck and back. Slowly his back muscles relaxed and unknotted and he sighed with relief. Thirty minutes later he toweled his blond hair dry as he dug around in the closet for clean clothes. The bar they were meeting at was a dive so he grabbed a worn pair of jeans, a black and red plaid shirt that had seen better days and his dark brown, armored jacket. He dressed quickly and pulled his boots on, stamping his feet to settle into the form fitting leather. He slipped his shoulder holster over his shirt and shrugged on the jacket making sure his weapon was secure and concealed. Then he grabbed his helmet and keys and checked the hallway before he stepped outside and locked the door behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

The bar was tiny. Just a hole in the wall that had served this neighborhood as a hangout for decades. The selection was limited and the orc bartender was surly, but it was quiet and most of all safe. Revenge was sitting at a back table waiting for him. She had changed out of her signature flashy clothing and was wearing a black v-neck sweater and jeans. She had pulled her hair up in a low pony tail covering the tips of her ears. There was no hiding the fact that she was an elf but in this neighborhood it was no surprise to see metahumans so she didn’t stand out as much as she did in more pure human areas. With makeup his partner was stunningly beautiful but Jase actually preferred her this way, au natural. All Corrine instead of Revenge. Corrine was softer somehow, more approachable, pretty rather than spectacular. He slipped into a seat across the table from her and nodded his appreciation when she slid a beer across to him. She didn’t speak until he had taken a drink and relaxed back into his chair.

“You hear about Sal?” She took a sip of her beer as she studied his face, her green eyes holding his as she drank.

“Yeah. Was to be expected though. He and Dagger were idiots to jump the gun like that.” Even here he took care with what he said out loud. Fagetti, unlike the two men who died that day, was definitely not stupid and Jase didn’t put it past him to put a tail on one of them. He tongued the switch set in the roof of his mouth and activated the secure channel of their comlinks. _‘What did Fagetti want with you?’_

She blinked and dropped her gaze to her beer. His blue eyes narrowed as she nervously began peeling the label off the bottle. _‘Corrine?’_

His tone let her know in no uncertain terms that he was not going to let it go, so she took a deep breath and looked back up. Her partner was going to be very unhappy in a moment, but the assignment came before his comfort. _‘He wants me to go after one of the Seventh.’_

Jase kept his body still and his voice even by sheer force of will. _‘Which one?’_

 _‘Stud. He has a reputation for having a weakness for the ladies.’_ Even over the comlink her sardonic tone of voice came through.

 _‘Corinne, do not underestimate these men,’_ he warned.

 _‘I’m not,’_ she snapped back. _‘Shit Jase. Do you think I am stupid? I know what is riding on this. I know how important this is and I will do my job! Just please... trust me. Okay?’_ Her eyes glittered with determination.

Jase repressed a sigh and looked around the bar. He signaled the waitress to bring them both another beer then turned back to his partner. _‘I do trust you. I just....’_ he paused to gather his thoughts. _‘This is just turning into such a clusterfuck. So much for an easy in and out assignment huh?’_

She snorted. _‘Easy? When they say it’s easy, run far, run fast. Didn’t they teach you that? Or were you to busy ogling the teacher’s ass to pay attention that day?’_

Jase grinned at her. Corrine hadn’t thought much of their tactics instructor and her opinion had not changed any since she had been in the field. _‘Just watch your back, kay? I don’t want to have to break in another partner.’_

She smirked at him. _‘Always do.’_ Corrine glanced down at her watch. _‘Gotta run. I am supposed to meet up with Fagetti in the morning and I have to get some sleep.’_ She reached across the table and squeezed his hand tightly. _‘Be safe. Talk to ya later.’_ She snagged the unopened beer and took it with her as she left. It wasn’t until she had disappeared out the door that he realized she had left him with the bill.

He shook his head and signaled the waitress again. When he saw how much the tab was he fought the urge to bang his head into the table and vowed to take it out of her hide next time he saw her. She had eaten before he got there and not told him, and right about now she was laughing her ass off at him. He snorted in half amusement, half irritation, not quite sure why he wasn’t more grumpy about it. ‘Humph, partners!... can’t live with ‘em, can’t shoot ‘em, and they ain’t got no resale value.’ He finished his beer and then slotted his cred stick into the table’s data port to pay for the bill and a generous tip and headed out the door. (cute)

                                                  * O *

JD and Josiah rolled their eyes and exchanged a look of fond exasperation as Chris gritted his teeth and swore atthe knot of traffic heading into the airport area.

“Not gonna get there any faster by bitchin’, brother.” Josiah pointed out. The dwarf gave Chris a cheeky grin as he turned a glare on him.

JD hid a smile as he wove skillfully in and out of traffic. It was just a few minutes later that they spotted the two men sitting on a bench. JD pulled up and triggered the sliding door of the van.

Ezra rose shakily to his feet and Chris frowned at the pinched expression of pain on his face. Vin reached out a hand to steady him as Ezra staggered the last few feet to the curb.

Vin wasted no time in slinging Ezra’s luggage into the back. He turned back to help Ezra only to have the shaman shrug off his hand as he climbed gingerly into the van. Ezra shot him an exasperated look with a quick furtive glance toward their fearless leader and Vin withdrew the offending hand with a slight grin of understanding. Josiah jumped out of the van and motioned Vin to take his place in the front seat while he crawled in next to Ezra.

Once they were settled JD shut the door and pulled smoothly back on the road and headed for home.

Josiah motioned to Ezra to lean over so he could check the head wound. Probing cautiously he inspected the area around the laceration. Ezra hissed as the patch caught in his hair. “Ow!”

“Sorry, brother. Well you managed to avoid cracking your skull open but you do have a pretty nasty gash here. I want to wait to heal it until we can clean all the gravel and dirt out. We are going to leave the patch on for now, but it’s gonna hurt coming off,” he warned.

Ezra frowned in annoyance. “I’m fine,” he stated firmly as Chris leaned back to take a look.

Chris raised both eyebrows and looked down his nose at the shaman. “Sure you are. For someone with a concussion. Your pupils are uneven, Ezra. You will see Nathan when we get back and no arguing with him.” He turned back to face the front of the vehicle and watched Vin shift uncomfortably in his seat. He frowned as he noted that the phys ad was not moving in his usual smooth manner. His grayish green eyes narrowed as he studied his second. Vin’s breath seemed to be catching when he moved a certain way. When the sniper began surreptitiously fidgeting Chris knew he was right. Vin, too, was injured.

Vin’s shoulders twitched and the short hairs on the back of his neck rose. He could feel Chris’s stare like a weight hanging over his head. Doing his best to ignore it he looked out the window, fidgeted with his seatbelt and tried his best to control his breathing. Finally, he couldn’t take it any longer. He glanced over his shoulder, and sure enough Chris had now leveled that irritated stare at him. “Hey don’t look at me like that. I’m fine.” He turned back to face the front as storm clouds seemed to appear in that steely gaze.

JD glanced over at Vin and smirked. “I don’t think he’s buying it, Vin.”

The sniper had the grace to look a bit sheepish and he shrugged as if to say he’d had to try.

Chris hid a small smile. It wasn’t often he was able to intimidate his second. The man seemed to be practically immune to the glare that sent lesser men scurrying for cover. Vin on the other hand usually just flashed a cheeky grin and called him cowboy. Chris would never admit it aloud but that bravery was one of the things he admired and respected about their sniper. He had no use for a coward. Not that any of the Seventh were. No, they one and all, tended more to reckless heroic bravery, especially if one of the others was threatened or injured in any way. Hurt one of them and the other six would rip your throat out or die trying. It was just one of the things that made them such an effective team.

Vin glanced back once again and nodded as Chris lifted one eyebrow. "Fine!" he huffed. "I'll let Nathan look at me(,) too."

"Thank you." Chris sat back in his seat with a self-satisfied smirk.

Vin rolled his eyes and settled back with a much put-upon sigh.

JD chuckled, just glad that for once, he wasn’t the one who was in the hot seat.

                                                   * O *

Once they reached the business office complex that served as the Seventh’s main headquarters, Chris sent Vin and Ezra off to the rooms that Nathan had set up as a triage clinic. While their medic couldn’t take care of everything, it did serve as a place he could treat minor problems or emergency situations before taking them to see their street doc Potshot at her clinic.

 

Nathan shook his head in exasperation as his two patients squabbled over who had to go first. Vin insisted that head wounds and concussions were much more serious than bruises, while the sharp eyed Ezra had noted the stiff way Vin was favoring his side and he was sure that the sniper had at the very least cracked a rib.

Finally Nathan had, had enough. “Both of you! Sit down and shut up!” He leveled a glare worthy of their fearless leader on the two. “Vin! Sit right there.” He pointed at the stool next to his desk. Then he turned the glare on a smirking Ezra. “You will sit there and let ‘Siah clean out that head wound.” He held up a hand as the shaman predictably opened his mouth to protest. “Save it, Ezra. I do _not_ want to hear it.” He turned back to Vin and ran a portable x-ray wand over his side. He nodded as the machine confirmed his suspicions. “Vin, you have a cracked rib and two that are broken.”

Vin bowed his head. “Yeah, I kinda figured, given how much it hurts to breathe deep.” He looked over as Ezra let out a squawk and softly chuckled at the aggrieved glare the shaman shot at Josiah. Even as he grimaced at the pain from laughing he couldn't help but be a bit gleeful. At least he wasn’t the only one who was going to be mother henned to death.

Josiah ran gentle hands over his teammate’s auburn hair loosening the blood and debris that had been ground into his scalp. He poured warm water over the wound until the water ran clear. Then he patted Ezra on the shoulder. “Almost done, brother.” He dabbed a gauze pad over the area to dry it.

Chanting softly in Latin he cast the healing spell and grunted in satisfaction as the skin knit itself back together.

The same spell would take care of the concussion although Ezra would have a lingering headache for a while. Stepping back he nodded to Ezra and then turned his attention to the phys ad. He took a deep breath and laid his hands on Vin’s side. A few minutes later he sighed and smiled at Vin. “Be careful for a few days. They are knit back together but it will take time to strengthen back up. It’s going to be a bit tender for a while, too.”

Vin nodded. “Thanks, ‘Siah.” He smiled down at the dwarf.

“My pleasure, Vin.”

The four men looked over as Chris strode into the room. “Nathan? How are they doing.”

Nathan ran a hand through his short cropped hair. “As long as they both take it easy for a couple of days, they will be fine.” He looked pointedly at the two elves. “That means no running around getting shot at!”

Vin grinned. “Aw, man. You never let us have any fun,” he mockgroused.  

Chris snorted in amusement. “Let’s go. There are questions that need answering.” He stepped back into the hall, confident they would follow him.

                                              * O *

The rest of the team had gathered in the conference room by the time they made their way through the building. Ezra was greeted by smiles of welcome as he came through the door. He made his way around the big round table to his usual chair next to Vin, and sank down with a soft sigh of relief. His head hurt and so did his feet and all he wanted at this point was to go home, curl up on his big bed and sleep. It had been a long(,) tiring, stressful day and it wasn’t over yet.

If he had read the signs right, Chris was about to go on the warpath. He wanted answers and he wanted them right now. Not that either Ezra or Vin could tell him much. Ezra had been knocked unconscious almost immediately and Vin had been so preoccupied with covering both of them and then getting away before Lone Star could detain them that he had seen next to nothing.

Vin scratched his head as a thought occurred to him. “Chris. I killed the shooter. I’m sure of it. And I am pretty sure he was the only one there. I didn’t see, or sense, anyone after I took him down.”

Chris nodded. “Your point?”

“The point is that Lone Star showed up just a few minutes after the explosion. We barely got away before they pulled into the lot. I bet they got the body.”

JD sat up straight. “I can make a Run on the morgue. See if they IDed the shooter,” he offered.

“Do it.” Chris turned to the decker. “How long do you think it will take?”

“Well...” JD shifted in his seat while he calculated how much time he would need to get in, break the encryption on the files, locate the information and get out. “Gotta give ‘em time to ID the vic, and input the information. I figure, maybe forty-eight hours before that happens. Say... seventy-two if the vic is SINless. I can have the information by the end of the week, if Lone Star doesn’t drag their heels on data entry. Really it depends on how swamped the morgue is. Of course if they can’t ID him all bets are off, ya know.”

 

The wry twist to Chris’ lips conceded the fact. **“** Good enough.” Chris turned his attention to Vin and Ezra. "Okay, you're both mostly healed now... but you aren't doing much of anything for the next few days and you're doing it where I can see you."

“ Chr-is...” Both men complained in unison.

“Save it. Now what did you two do that made people try and kill you?” Chris cocked an eyebrow at his second and the shaman.

Vin frowned. "You were with me all week."

"I was on vacation," Ezra added.

Chris glared. “Think about it.”

Vin and Ezra exchanged looks and tried again. "You were with me all week."

"I was on vacation."

Chris’ glare never wavered and left neither of them a reprieve. “Think about it,” he reiterated.

Buck hid a grin as the two elves fidgeted under Chris’s unrelenting stare.

"I cut off that lady who was running the stop sign." Vin searched desperately for some idea of who could possibly be mad enough at him to blow up his beloved Jeep.

While none of the others would ever believe him, Ezra’s visit with Mask had been quiet and he couldn’t think of a single reason someone would go so far as to try and kill him... at least not for anything recent. "I forgot to tip my bellhop?" Ezra shrugged helplessly.

Buck sat up and snapped his fingers. “That must be it! ‘Deadly ninja bellhops’."

When the others turned to look at him with varying expressions of “what the fuck?” His deep blue eyes twinkled with mischief as he shrugged and gave them a snarky grin. “What? ... they unionized.”

JD was the first to crack, bursting out laughing until tears ran down his face. Nathan and Josiah chuckled and Vin clutched his ribs as he laughed. Ezra shook his head and dropped it down to rest on the table, only his slightly shaking shoulders giving away his amusement, and even Chris’ lips twitched as he fought a smile.

It took a few minutes for them to bring their mirth under control but in that time the mood in the room lightened and they all relaxed. Buck smiled with satisfaction. Tension was not conducive, he smiled at the Ezra word, to brainstorming. True, they needed to figure out what had prompted the attack, but Chris storming around grilling everyone like some cheesy trid version of a grumpy detective was not going to get them the answers they needed.

“Chris, until we get more information I don’t think we are going to get anywhere,” Josiah pointed out mildly.

“Fine. All of you, watch your backs until we can figure this out.” Chris stood signaling the end of the meeting. He stomped out of the room to go call their fixer, Inez, and have her put out feelers. If someone was after his men he wanted to know about it.

                                                   * O *

The restaurant was understated and elegant with sparkling bone china, crisp white linen tablecloths and quiet unobtrusive wait staff. Just the kind of place Harold Fagettipreferred. He was sitting quietly drinking a cup of coffee and toying with his meal when Revenge arrived. He turned his attention from the wall of glass that framed a picture perfect view of the mountains to watch her approach with narrowed eyes. The elf was beautiful and deadly, but there was a wildness about her that he didn’t trust. Once again she was dressed in an outfit that would keep a normal family in rent and groceries for six months. Her long coat was a patchwork of dark genuine leather and golden sheepskin set in a harlequin pattern. Under it her silk blouse shimmered with every move of her body, the emerald green a perfect match for her eyes. The skirt was also leather, this time butter soft black suede that fit her like a glove. She stood almost six feet tall in her stiletto heels, towering over the hit man. Where she normally wore her hair down and free flowing, today it was up, smooth against the nape of her neck in some kind of complicated twist which allowed the long dangling hoops of her earrings to hang free. A matching gold necklace sparkled against her creamy skin, the ruby pendant resting in the hollow of her throat like single drop of blood suspended in time. All in all she looked lovely, competent and the perfect bait to draw out a man with a known weakness for the ladies. A weakness that Fagetti had every intention of using to destroy him. He nodded to her as she slipped into a chair across the table from him.

Revenge tilted her head to one side and met Fagetti’s eyes. As always she suppressed a shudder at the lack of emotion he showed. She plastered a slight smile on her face as she accepted a cup of coffee from the waitress. "You wanted to see me?" She took a moment to appreciate the aroma of pure, real coffee before her eyes flicked around the room noting the exits and the presence of Fred, Fagetti’s right hand man. If there was anyone in the family that was scarier than the Don and Fagetti, it was Fred. The man was unassuming, thinning hair, slight in build and always dressed in rumpled unkempt clothes. His eyes were watery behind old fashioned glasses but look into those cruel eyes and you saw death looking back at you. Fred was, without a doubt, one of the deadliest assassins in the world. His appearance was nothing more than an elaborate trap for the unwary. Corinne, however, was anything but unwary. She had done her homework and had a healthy respect for the amount of sheer mayhem the man could unleash. If she ever had the opportunity to take Fred down, she promised herself, it would be quick, decisive and from a distance. If she had her way the man would never know what hit him. She took a brief second to contemplate that happy thought.

Fagetti handed her a slim file. “This is the information we have on Stud. Study it and take him down.”

She flipped though the file quickly, then nodded. “This will take time you realize,” she said. “If I am going to do it right and have a snowball’s chance in hell of success I can’t rush this. If I try he will be warned.”

“I am aware of that. You have what time you need. However, if I suspect that you are not giving it your best effort, we will be having another... chat.”

His smile sent a shiver down her spine and she nodded quickly, allowing him to see a hint of fear in her gaze. “Yes, sir. I understand and you can count on me.”

Fagetti smiled thinly. “I am sure I can.”

The menace in his tone was clear and she had no trouble translating it to mean ‘do or die trying.’ “If that is all, sir, I will get on this right away.”

He nodded permission to go and watched as she rose smoothly to her feet and strode out of the room, her heels clicking with each stride. Once she was out of ear shot he glanced over at his second. “Well?”

Fred cleared his throat. “I don’t trust her.” His voice was gravely from disuse.

Fagetti barked out a harsh laugh. “You don’t trust anyone,” he pointed out.

“True, but that is why I am still alive and so many others are not. As for this slitch.... keep her on a short leash, Harold.”

“She knows who pays her bills,” Fagetti smirked.

Fred turned his shark’s gaze on his boss and frowned. “Even a kept pet can turn on the hand that feeds it.”

“Relax, Fred. She pretends to be tough but either of us could break her without even trying.” He waved a dismissive hand.

Fred subsided in his chair and lapsed into his customary watchful silence. He had delivered his warning and if Harold choose to discount it, well then, his position would soon be open.

                                               * O *

Corinne breathed a sigh of relief once she was clear of the building. She strode quickly to her car and slid gracefully behind the wheel. Starting it up, she typed her destination into the GPS, activated the auto-drive and eased onto the road heading for her partner’s apartment. If she hurried maybe she could catch him before he left for the day.

                                                   * O *

Jase woke feeling like something had crawled under his tongue and died. He groaned as the sunlight filtering through the thin shades crossed the bed and shone directly into his bleary eyes. His head ached and he wondered if he was coming down with something. It felt like he had a world class hangover but he hadn’t had more than those two beers the night before. Suspicion and a healthy dose of paranoia dragged him from the bed to check and make sure that his rooms had not been entered while he was sleeping. He blanched when he walked into the living room and there on the floor was a small scrap of paper. A scrap that had been on top of the door jamb when he went to bed. Sometime between then and now his refuge had been breached. He searched the small apartment for any other signs of intrusion but there was nothing to indicate that anyone other than himself had been there. It all came down to that single scrap. He jumped when a tap sounded on the door. He grabbed his pistol off the counter and plastered himself to the wall beside the door. Raising his hand he covered the peephole and waited breathlessly. A chuckle sounded on the other side of the door and a familiar voice spoke just loud enough for him to hear. “Open the fucking door Jase, it’s just me.” He threw the lock and jerked the door open to reveal his partner standing there looking like a super model.

 

She strode into the room as if it were her own and stopped when she noticed the expression on his face. “What’s wrong?”

 

He ran his hand through his hair and shut the door, before striding across the room to throw himself down on the sagging couch. “I think someone broke in last night while I was asleep. I feel... hungover.”

 

She arched one perfectly groomed eyebrow. “Jase, you were drinking last night,” she reminded him.

 

“No more than two beers,” he snapped. “And then there is this.” He handed her the tiny piece of paper.

 

She took it and looked from the scrap to him. “I fail to see the significance.”

 

“I always put something on the doorjamb when I lock up. Someone walks in and it falls. It’s doubtful they would ever notice it and even if they did, so what? It’s just a scrap of paper, right?” He nodded to it. “That was on the floor this morning. Someone was here.”

 

Her brow wrinkled a bit as she thought about what he had said. “Jase... are you sure it didn’t just get dislodged by the air conditioner or something? Other than that, is there any evidence that someone was here?” She looked around the room to see if anything was out of place. Although the apartment was shabby, Jase kept it immaculately clean and tidy. The painted walls might be faded and the floor was scuffed from years of abuse but there was no grime. Each item was neatly in its place and while the furniture was old and worn like the room, it did not smell of mildew like so many such pieces did. To her recollection it looked exactly the same as the last time she had been here, right down to the stack of mail sitting in an open basket he kept on the counter beside the bowl that held small items like his bike keys and wallet.

 

Jase shook his head slowly. “No,” he admitted. “Just the paper. You don’t believe me, do you?”

 

“It’s not that I don’t believe you. I am just wondering if there is another explanation. Why would someone be in your apartment and not take anything?” She stopped and looked at him hard. “Honestly, I think you are concerned over nothing. I’m hungry, let’s go grab some breakfast and you can help me plan how to take down this fragger.” She waved the file at him.

 

                                                       * O *

 

Chris stared at JD. “Let me get this straight. Someone stole the body? Before they could ID him?”

 

“Yep.” The decker flopped down in his chair with a frown on his face. “They got jack shit from the crime scene. Fragging incompetent idiots. Whoever is in charge of hiring over at Lone Star should be fired.” The vein in Chris’s temple throbbed as he silently seethed and JD was amazed the man had any teeth left with the way he ground them together in frustration. “You want me to keep looking?”

 

Chris waved a hand in negation. “No point to it now. We are just going to have to wait and see if Inez’s people come up with anything.”

 

JD nodded. “You got it, boss.”

 

                                           * O *

 

Jase climbed off his bike and pulled his helmet off as he walked toward the diner across the street. Revenge would not be all that happy with his choice but her cash flow exceeded his by quite a bit and this was all he could afford so she would just have to suck it up, or pay for a nicer restaurant. He rather hoped she would agree to eating here, cheap it might be, but the food was good and the portions hearty. The type of places she chose tended to run to portion sizes that would barely keep a mouse alive. Either way it went, one of them was going to stand out in the crowd. Here however, the crowd tended to be much more tight(-)lipped about what and who they saw coming and going. Unless of course there was ‘yen to be had and then all bets were off. Still in this neighborhood, someone would have to actively purchase information versus the establishments that Revenge frequented where you could get info simply by listening to the wealthy gossip and snipe about the “less fortunate.” He waved to his favorite waitress, holding up two fingers, as he headed for ‘his’ booth in the back. It was quieter back there and the back door was conveniently placed to allow a furtive exit if needed. He took the bench that put his back to the wall and waited for his partner to join him. It was about fifteen minutes before she sauntered through the front door of the diner, her stunning looks drawing all eyes to her. She paused in the entrance and if Jase didn’t know better he would think she was posing. As it was he recognized the scan of the room for the tactical sweep it really was, cataloging entrances, exits and patron’s threat levels. She made her way to the booth and slid in. She wrinkled her nose at the soy-caf waiting for her.

“I do so detest this swill,” she complained.

Jase raised an eyebrow. “So don’t drink it.” He took a sip of his own brew with a grin. “Spoiled brat,” he added.

She chuckled and acknowledged the hit with an imaginary tip of a hat. “So I am.” She tossed the file Fagetti had given her on the table and nodded to it. “Spaghetti gave that to me this morning.” Her eyes twinkled mischievously.

“Damn it, Revenge!” he hissed. “Sometimes you are so fragging reckless I wanna strangle you. You have got to be more careful. He hears you called him that and your life won’t be worth a plugged nickel!”

“Oh relax, will ya? How is he gonna find out? You’re not planning on telling him, are you?” She waved a well-manicured hand at him dismissively, the tiny gems inset into her polished nails flashing in the light. “And I doubt that anyone who just happened to overhear me would know who the frag we are talking about anyway. So just stay frosty, ‘kay?”

Jase fought the urge to either bang his head against the wall... or hers. He didn’t particularly care which at that exact moment. Sometimes his partner just didn’t seem to have the common sense that the Good Lord gave little white puppies. Her outlook had always been that if she had to cross thin ice, she would cross it in a dance, while his more pragmatic bent said just melt the mother-fucking ice and take the damn boat.

She pushed the file under his hand with a smirk.

He flipped the file open and took the holo out. A dark haired man with blue eyes and a dark mustache grinned up at him. “This the target?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Street name is Stud.” She cocked her head and chuckled softly.

He looked through what little information they had been able to gather. Fagetti’s decker hadn’t been able to find much more than what was public knowledge. He was with the Seventh and was a street samurai with an impressive record. Jase rolled his eyes. No shit he had an impressive record. Lobo didn’t suffer incompetence any more than Fagetti did. There was not a single man on that team that was anything less than frighteningly competent. They were, without a doubt, the best team of runners in the sprawl and their successes spoke for themselves.

She plucked the holo out of his hand and studied it. “At least he’s handsome,” she observed. “Let’s just hope he can live up to his street name.”

Jase shot her a look of exasperation.

“What? Can’t a girl enjoy her work?” she threw out offhandedly.

                                            * O *

 

“Hola, Inez. Did you get anything at all?” Chris asked. He watched the dark haired Latina carefully. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her. She was actually one of the few outside the Seventh that he did trust. A fixer lived and died by their reputation, and screwing your stable of Shadowrunners was a good way to find yourself either dead, or out of work. Runners had long memories and gossiped like a bunch of sorority girls at a slumber party. Fixers who betrayed the trust of their independent contractors soon found that no one would work for them.

She shook her head regretfully. “Lo siento, Lobo. There has been no chatter anywhere that my people have been able to find. No word of a hit being called on any of you. Do you want me to keep digging?”

Chris frowned. Inez had always been straight with them and they rewarded that honesty with loyalty. She was the only fixer the Seventh worked for. Still, she might be reluctant to share information if it implicated one of her other clients. Her body language, however, showed no signs of holding back any information that might be vital to their survival. Chris was sure that she was telling him the truth as she knew it. “No. Thank you for checking.”

She smiled. “It is my pleasure, senor. Tenga cuidado.”

“As always.” _~ End trans._

He leaned over and switched off the telescreen. Inez Rocillos was the best fixer in Denver and if even she was unable to get any intel, Chris knew there was likely nothing to find. It was beginning to look like whoever had a beef with either Vin, or Ezra, possibly both, had gone to ground after the attempt had failed. The missing body was especially worrisome, it was after all an extreme measure to take to insure the man wasn’t identified. To Chris this signified someone had hired him to make the hit and that someone was still out there. He ran their last few Runs over in his mind trying to pinpoint anyone who might be targeting them. Nothing stood out. All in all the last few months had been fairly quiet. The runs they had pulled, while not easy, had gone off smoothly and without undue attention from either corp or Lone Star. There had been one incident with Buck and a disgruntled husband but neither Vin, nor Ezra had been involved in that and the couple had moved back east shortly after that. Ezra of course had been in Seattle for a couple months visiting Mask, but he swore things had been quiet and he had pulled no jobs while he was there. Vin had disappeared for a couple weeks with a private security gig, escorting a VIP to a conference and providing him a body guard while he was there, but again there had been nothing that would provoke such an attack. Chris pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes.

“Let it go, cowboy.” Vin spoke from the doorway.

Chris looked up to see the sniper leaning casually on the doorjamb. “You heard?”

“Yeah. Listen Chris, worrying about it isn’t gonna make it go away or fix it. We’ll watch out, and if someone else comes after us, we’ll deal with it.” He smiled and his piercing blue eyes twinkled with mischief. “Besides. As mad as Ezra is about his damn clothes and the blood stains, I pity the man who crosses him next.”

Chris chuckled. Their shaman was well known for his tres chic wardrobe and was fiercely protective of it. It took no stretch of the imagination at all to see what kind of snit he must be in over the loss of any portion of it. “All right. I’ll leave it for now. Just watch your six will ya? I’d hate to have to break in a new sniper.”

Vin laughed. “Shit, you’d be hard pressed to find one that would put up with all your mother henning.”

“Ha! I think you have me confused with Nathan.” Chris looked down his autocratic nose as he pointed a finger at Vin.

Vin rolled his eyes. “Hell, between the two of you, it’s a wonder ya’ll let any of us out the door sometimes.” He looked alarmed at the thoughtful look on his CO’s face. “Now, Chris. Don’tcha be getting any ideas.” He stood up straight and fixed Chris with a glare. “I ain’t no kid and you got no call to be...” he stopped as he noted the twinkle in Chris’ eyes. “Mother fucker. You did that on purpose!”

Chris snickered. “And you fell for it.”

                                                   * O *

Buck turned his head to watch as a beautiful woman walked by his table. JD elbowed him to get his attention as the waitress waited patiently for his order. He turned back and gave her a blinding smile. “I’ll have the T-bone, darling(‘). Baked potato, with everything and a salad, Ranch dressing.”

She smiled back. “And to drink?”

“Beer. Whatever ya have on tap.”

“I’ll have that right out, sir. If you need anything else, let me know.” Her tone of voice and body language was lightly suggestive and her eyes twinkled at him as she turned her heels and sashayed away, giving a little extra shimmy to her walk.

JD laughed and smacked Buck on the arm. “Ya know, if you could bottle that, you would make a fortune. Although it would be kinda nice if ya left one or two for the rest of us,” he groused.

Buck smirked. “Kid, some things you just have to be born with.”

                                                     * O *

“How do you plan on getting close to him?” Jase asked. He dug into his breakfast as he watched her.

Revenge shrugged. “Honestly, I am not sure. I’ve run a few things through my mind but...” she trailed off and took a sip of her soy-caf, grimacing at the taste.

Jase thought about it for a moment. “Too cliche?”

“Yes, exactly. I’m sure the man isn’t stupid and anything too overt will make him suspicious.” She set her cup down and took a bite of the pancakes she had ordered. An expression of delight crossed her face as she chewed. “Hey, these are really good.” She waved her fork in his direction.

“Of course they are. I told you the food was good here.” He rolled his eyes at her surprise. “You need to find out where he hangs out,” he said returning to the original topic. He rested his chin on his hand and thought about it. “A casual meeting would be best I think. Sort of in passing.”

                                             * O *

Buck smiled at the clerk as she rang up their meal. He leaned on the counter and gave her his best smile.

JD shook his head fondly. Buck just couldn’t help himself. If there was a woman present the sammy was going to be distracted. Unless they were in a fight. He left his friend to settle the bill and headed out the door and across the parking lot to where their bikes were parked.

                                            * O *

“That file say anything about known hangouts?” Jase leaned over trying to read the information upside down.

Revenge perused the paperwork. “There is one bar they have been seen at a few times. Over off Twelfth Street Place called The Saloon.” She arched an eyebrow. “Not my usual choice for a drink.”

“Aww, poor baby, don’t ya like honky tonks darlin’?” he drawled. The thought of his oh so high maintenance partner at a dive like The Saloon made him chuckle.

                                              * O *

A sudden squeal of tires drew Buck’s attention away from the clerk and he watched in horror as JD flew over the hood of a long slung Westwind. The decker smashed into the windshield and slid off the hood onto the pavement as the car fishtailed into the street. He bounced as he hit the ground and rolled to a stop, his body crumpled like a child’s rag doll, limbs askew, unmoving. Buck felt his heart lurch and skip a beat, and with a horrified cry he hit the door at a dead run. He skidded to a halt next to his best friend’s battered form and fell to his knees, trying to catalog his injuries, to stanch the flow of blood with his bare hands.

The waitress followed Buck and dropped to her knees next to him, her pocket secretary out and already dialing for Doc Wagon. She babbled the address to the operator who answered and then ripped off her apron to try and stop the bleeding from multiple lacerations. “Oh my God. Is he dead?” she gasped.

Buck blanched as he felt frantically for a pulse. For one dread filled moment he felt nothing until he moved his fingers slightly and there it was, weak and faltering, but there. “He’s alive. How long until they get here?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. They’re on the way.” She pressed the cloth gingerly to his head. The wound bled freely turning his face into a macabre mask. His eyelids fluttered and for a moment she thought he would open his eyes but he continued to lie there, his breathing barely perceptible.

Buck’s focus narrowed until he could hear his heartbeat thumping in his chest, fast and furious as if he had just run a marathon. He gasped for air, pleading under his breath for JD to live, for his brother not to leave him. The glass shards embedded in JD’s face and arms sparkled in the sunlight peeking out of the red flow of his friend’s life’s blood. One of JD’s legs was shattered, bone sticking out through the shredded flesh and Buck gagged and fought down the urge to vomit. He had never felt more helpless as he knelt beside JD and prayed harder than he ever had in his life. Prayed for the paramedics to hurry, prayed for JD to keep breathing, for his heart to keep beating. JD gasped for breath, his lips faintly tinged with blue. Against Buck’s fingers his pulse fluttered, stuttered and skipped a couple of beats before starting again, faint and faltering. “Ferret, don’t you fucking die on me!” Buck yelled. “Don’t you leave me! Damn it, you hear me, Ferret?” In the distance he could hear the faint wail of sirens approaching. “They are almost here. Come on kid, just hang on a few more minutes!”

Hazel eyes fluttered opened and stared up at Buck dazedly. JD struggled to catch his breath, struggled to speak, to tell Buck he understood and that he would fight to stay alive. He wasn’t ready to leave just yet. Not until he had helped find the people targeting them. The fuckers that threatened his family, not until he had ripped their throats out with his bare hands for daring to bring even the threat of harm to his brothers. His eyes drifted shut before he could speak, but as they did he saw understanding in Buck’s fierce gaze. Agony overwhelmed him, and he convulsed, his back arching up and off the pavement until after what seemed an eternity it released him to fall to the ground. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and the pain chased him down into the darkness. Through the rents in his shirt the ferret tattoo that crawled up his rib cage flashed with an unearthly light and its eyes glowed green with foxfire. The healing spells caught within its sleek lines reached out to JD's battered body, seeking out the worst of the wounds and stemming the flow of blood....

 

                                                   * O *

“You’re going to need different clothes, ya know. You show up dressed like that and you’re going to stand out toomuch,” Jase observed.

Revenge sighed in disappointment as her hand stroked the soft leather of her skirt. “I know.” Then she smiled brightly. “Guess I better go shopping.”

Jase chuckled into his cup. Women...

                                               * O *

They found Buck wedged into a waiting room seat hunched over staring at his blood stained hands. He looked up at them bleakly, the silvery tracks of tears marring his cheeks. Josiah dropped into the chair next to him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Have you heard any word?”

“No. He is in surgery. They said they would come talk to me after.” He turned to Chris. “Did you bring the Power of Attorney and Power of Health? They won’t let us make decisions for him without it.”

Chris nodded. “Right here. I’ll go talk to the admittance clerk.” He strode off, letting the rest of the team give Buck the support he so desperately needed.

Ezra handed Buck a cred stick with his false ID embedded in it. “You forgot this.”

Buck nodded absently. “Thanks.” He stuffed the ID in his pocket, his attention never straying from the big double door that JD had disappeared through.

                                                   * O *

Hours passed and still they waited, taking over one corner of the waiting area. Ezra left for an hour before reappearing with a tray of coffees and a box of pastries. Josiah split his time between the small chapel and talking to the others, offering encouragement and what comfort he could. Nathan haunted the nurses station hoping to pick up any useful information, while Vin and Chris kept a silent vigil. Buck paced around the room growing more agitated by the hour until at last he exploded, his frustration boiling over at the lack of news.

“What the fuck is taking so long?” Buck snarled.

Chris looked up to find that Buck had cornered the nurse and for once he wasn’t smiling as he spoke to a woman. She cringed against the wall as the sammy loomed over her. Chris leapt to his feet and strode over, pulling Buck off her and spun him into Vin’s grasp. “Walk it off, Stud!” he snapped. “Falcon, you and Prophet get him out of here. Don’t come back ‘til he calms down,” Chris ordered.

The two men manhandled Buck out of the waiting room and out the sliding doors to the parking lot. Once outside he wrenched away from their grasp with a low growl. “Get the fuck off me!”

“Shit, Stud. We’re all worried ok? But going after a nurse isn’t gonna do anything more than get us kicked outta here...” Vin stated calmly.

“Fuck you, Falcon!” Buck ran a hand through his thick black hair leaving it standing on end. His eyes were wild and filled with desperation as he rounded on his teammate.

“Stud, you need to calm down. When there is news they will come tell us.” Josiah’s attempt to soothe Buck fell on deaf ears as the street sammy paced up and down the sidewalk. “Come on, talk to us brother. We understand how you feel....” He drew back in alarm when Buck whirled to face him fury overwhelming the big man.

“You don’t understand jack shit, Prophet. This is my fault! I should have been there!” Buck spat out.

“What are you talking about? You were there,” Vinasked in confusion.

“No, I wasn’t. I was inside talking to the waitress. I should have been with him. Not fucking flirting with that girl! If I had been there maybe I could have stopped this. Seen the car before he got hit. Something!” Tears ran down his face unnoticed as he confessed his failure.

Understanding dawned and Vin stepped forward, laying a comforting hand on Buck’s shoulder. “Stud, this is not your fault. It’s the fault of the fucker who hit him. And believe me, when we catch up to him, he will pay. I swear that to you.”

Buck choked back more tears. “But what if...” A whistle interrupted whatever he was about to say and the three looked over to see Nathan standing in the door beckoning.

“Doc is here,” Nathan called. He drew back as Buck rushed for the door.

Chris was standing talking to a tall Amerindian man dressed in blood spattered scrubs, a surgical mask hanging by a cord around his neck and booties over his feet. The doctor ran a hand over his face, his eyes red rimmed and tired looking. Chris and Ezra eased back opening the circle enough to allow the others to join them.

“It will take time,” The doctor was saying as they moved to join the conversation. “But his prognosis is very encouraging. There is a lot of damage to the leg. We were able to realign everything but I have to be honest, it was touch and go for a while there. He actually coded twice but we were able to get him back. Your friend is a fighter, gentlemen.” He shook his head in admiration. “We’ve stabilized him for the moment, but the reason I am out here instead of still working on him, is I was told you hold PoH and PoA on Mr. Donner?”

“I do. They have it on file.” Chris gestured to the admitting desk. “Do you need consent for something?”

The doctor nodded. “We are going to have to do some muscle and bone replacement, and while I have him open I need to know if we also need to do any augmentation.”

Buck spoke up. “He has mentioned upgrading his wired reflexes to me.”

Chris looked thoughtful for a moment. “We can cover that. Is that feasible, doctor?”

“Certainly. That will actually be quite easy with his existing cyberware. What level do you want to go with?”

Chris smiled slightly. “Top of the line, doc. With whatever you need to do.”

Vin grinned. “Hey(,) doc. How about you add one a those cool built in holsters.”

The doctor chuckled. “I can do that, too. Any other options?”

“Nah, I think that’ll do it. Can’t have the kid thinking he’s invincible there.”

                                             * O *

JD floated in the dark, pain a distant concept, hovering on the edge of his consciousness like a wild animal stalking him. He pulled deeper into himself, hiding in the safety of the shadows. A low rumble teased his mind, coaxing him out into the light. He fought the pull, he didn’t want to go out there, out where pain waited patiently for him to emerge from hiding. But the rumble was relentless, and slowly it dragged him up, past layers of fear and anger, past rapidly changing images of thepast. With a surge of adrenaline that left him struggling for breath he broke the surface. The rumble smoothed into words and with the words came recognition. Josiah, head bowed in prayer, sat by his bed waiting. The room was dark and quiet but for the gravely depths of his teammate’s voice and the whoosh of the ventilator and beeping of various machines and then the strident tones of an alarm broke the peace. He blinked his eyes rapidly trying to clear his vision. He panicked at the feeling of something down his throat. His hands flailed as he tried to reach up, to remove whatever it was that was obstructing his airway. A sharp pinch in his hand added another pain to the litany of complaints his body was trying to inform him of. A squeal in his ear increased his discomfort. He gagged as his stomach churned and twisted in his belly. A heavy hand pressed his forehead down onto the pillow as Josiah tried to calm him, but JD was too far gone to register his words and touch as anything more than another source of agitation. Suddenly there was a flash of white and the room was full of swirling figures, Josiah was pulled out of the way and strangers loomed over his body like a swarm of hornets. Urgent voices called back and forth adding a cacophony to the confusion.

Josiah backed into the hall and hovered uncertainly in front of the large window. He gnawed at his lip trying to decide whether to stay put or head back to the others in the waiting room. The decision was made for him when one of the nurses spotted him and unceremoniously shut the curtain. He walked slowly down the tiled hall and stifled a sneeze as some medicinal odor trickled out into the long hallway from an empty room. He wrinkled his nose at the scent. He positively hated the smell of hospitals. It reminded him too much of his sister and all she had suffered through before her death. Goblinization was not kind to the weak minded and his father... he wrenched his mind away from that line of thought. He didn’t want to think about the place his...father...had put his baby sister and the unspeakable things they had done to her to try and “cure her disease”, things he hadn’t been able to save her from and for that he owed an eternal penance. He thrust open the door to the waiting room harder than he had intended, and it flew back slamming into the wall with a bang. The charge nurse jumped and whirled around in her chair with a muffled oath, as she stared at him wide eyed. He shot her an apologetic glance and bowed his head sheepishly before making his way to the corner the Seventh had taken over and made theirs.

Vin and Ezra looked up from a card game they had spread out on the low table. Buck was asleep in a chair his arms crossed over his chest and his long legs stretched out in front of him blocking the pathway. Chris stood looking out the window into the night. He looked around for Nathan but the medic was missing. “Where’s DT?”

Ezra put down his cards. “He went for coffee, he should be back momentarily. Is Ferret awake yet?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes, but something’s wrong. They kicked me out while they are working on him. Someone should come tell us something as soon as they get him stabilized.” The worry in Josiah’s eyes was plain for them all to see.

“What happened?” Chris asked.

“Well,” the mage said slowly. “He woke up but he seemed really out of it and I think he panicked. He was flailing around and reaching for the air tube. Then an alarm went off and the next thing I knew the room was full of people working on him and they threw me out.” He shrugged helplessly. “They shut the curtain and I didn’t want to wait in the hall, so I figured I could at least come tell you he’s awake.”

                                                 * O *

Half an hour later and there was still no sign of Nathan so Chris sent Vin and Ezra to look for him.

Vin punched the button for the elevator and waited patiently for it to arrive on their floor. The door opened and before they could enter Ezra threw out a hand to stop him.

“Look!” The shaman pointed to the faint brown stain on the floor. The elevator smelled strongly of bleach but despite the obvious clean up there was still a large wet spot on the carpet to indicate that something had happened. Ezra looked at Vin with alarm. “You don’t think...?”

Vin blanched. “Shit. DT! Ace, go up and check the cafeteria. I’ll head to security and see if anyone has reported some kind of incident. And Ace, watch your fucking six!”

Ezra nodded. “You, too.” He stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the fourth floor.

Vin moved as quickly as he could down the hallwayto the security office. He tapped on the door and waited for a security officer to answer.

The man who answered the door towered over the phys ad, standing a good six and a half feet tall. His skin was a deep ebony covered with short fine blue fur. His eyes shone in the light, a deep gold and his ears were gracefully pointed. Vin sucked in his breath. A night one, their kind was not often seen outside of the Tir nations. The elf’s voice was a deep rumbling bass when he courteously asked Vin his business.

“My team is waiting in Emergency for word on an injured member and our medic went for coffee. He hasn’t returned yet and when we went looking for him we saw signs of an incident in the elevator,” Vin explained. “Can you tell me if a Nathanial Jeran was involved? He is about 6’ 2”, stocky build, African-American, has a tattoo of a medic’s staff and a seven on his forearm.” He stopped as the guard held up a hand.

“Sir. Do you have some form of identification? I can’t just give out information to anyone. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course. And you can check with the Emergency room staff. We have been here for hours.” Vin dug out his ID stick and handed it to the guard. He waited patiently while the man checked out his story and called the charge nurse. He leaned against the wall while he waited, running a hand through his hair.

The night one came back to the door, his expression serious. “Yes, sir. A man matching that description was involved in an attack. You will have to check with admissions but I believe he is already in surgery. He was stabbed several times, from what we can tell. I was just reviewing the trid right now.”

Vin straightened up in alarm. “Thank you, sir. I need to get back to my team. If you need us we are in the Emergency room lobby. Here is my telecom number.” He rattled the number off for the man, then turned on his heel and headed for his team. It seemed that whoever was gunning for them had somehow found them and they were being whittled down at an alarming rate. Despite the hospital rules he reached up and flipped the mic of his micro-transceiver on. ‘ _Lobo?’_ he subvocalized. _‘Someone got to DT. He was attacked in the elevator and stabbed several times. Someone found him and he’s in surgery. Ace? Get back down here now.’_

 _‘Acknowledged.’_ Ezra said.

                                             * O *

The five remaining teammates gathered around a table in the cafeteria and tried to make sense of the day’s events. Chris paced back and forth grinding his teeth while he wracked his brain for a way to keep the rest of his team safe. The attacks had blindsided them all. Each one had been different, from the bomb in Vin’s jeep to the stabbing that took Nathan out. There was no pattern that he could see that would allow him to predict where the next one would come from. And it would come, he was convinced of that. Someone was gunning for his men and for the moment he was helpless to stop it. He turned back to the table and glared at the assembled men. “As of right now, until we can figure this out, nobody goes anywhere alone,” he ordered. It was a reflection of how serious the situation was that nobody, not even the fiercely independent Ezra argued with that.

“We’ll split up into two-man shifts and each take eight hours. Now, we’ll have to rotate partners. It’ll be tough, but what are we gonna do, call Lone Star? We all know—“

“Those guys don’t know their asses from third base,” the rest of the team chorused with him, poking fun at something that Chris apparently said way too much around them.

Despite the severity of the situation, Chris found himself suppressing a grin. “Exactly.” Whoever was gunning for them hadn’t broken them yet. “So here’s how this is going to go: Prophet, you and me are gonna take first watch. After, I need you to get back to the safe house and get some rest, because I’m gonna need you on third watch too with Vin.”

“Alright, brother,” Josiah inclined his grizzled head in acknowledgment.

“Stud and Ace, you guys are gonna take second watch. Same deal, after your shift, somebody needs to rest up and take first again with me. I don’t particularly care who. Rock, Paper, Scissors, I don’t give a shit. Just get it done. Keep the rotation and we should be fine.”

“Pardon me, esteemed leader?” Ezra raised his hand politely like a little boy in a classroom.

“What?” Chris barked.

“While I agree that your plan is all well and good, it does pose a problem.” Chris raised his eyebrows in exasperation when Ezra paused dramatically. “If we are all stretching ourselves thin at the hospital, who is going to look for the cretins responsible for this series of atrocities?”

There was a murmur of agreement and discontent as the men shifted in their seats. Finally, Buck stood up with a disgusted sound. “Hell, Lobo, Ace’s right. Ain’t nothin’ getting done while we’re all cooped up here. These guys could strike again! And we still don’t have any idea who they are!” His arms flew out, punctuating his statement even more so.

“Stud…” Chris warned, sensing that they’d just reached the end of Buck’s fuse, and the ticking time-bomb he’d been worried about since JD was run down in the street was going off.

“No, Lobo! Don’t you ‘Stud’ me like I’m some little kid you just caught doin’ something he ought not to be. This is fuckin’ serious! Ferret could’ve died! DT, well thank the big guy in the sky, only had a short way to go to the O.R.! But you know they weren’t intending for him to live. He was supposed to bleed out in that fuckin’ elevator before anyone found him. And who’s next? You, me, Falcon? Nobody knows, and we don’t even know who we’re supposed to be watching out for.” Buck shook his head in disgust. “Take me off the watch. You’ll have to cover twelve hours then, I know, but somebody’s gotta start combing through the info…and I can do a whole lot more good when I’m actually being proactive instead of just sitting on my ass at the hospital, worrying.”

“I don’t like it—“ Chris began.

“Tough shit,” Buck countered, “You ain’t my momma, much as you like to pretend.”

Frowning, Chris continued, “But you have a point. Work from the safe house though. Keep in contact with us. I expect periodic check-ins on the hour every hour. You miss one, I’m gonna put you on a kid leash and drag your ass with me everywhere. We clear?”

Buck nodded succinctly, “Crystal.” He turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.

                                                   * O *

Jase could hear Corinne swearing in Sperethiel through the door. The elvish language was melodic and sophisticated and yet... He chuckled at a particularly vivid description of what she thought the hit team could do with various woodland critters. He tapped on the door and waited for her to come let him in. She flung it open with a scathing. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Nice to see you too, Revenge.” He waltzed through the door and threw himself down on her surprisingly comfortable couch with a smirk. “I take it you heard about the hit on the Seventh?” He stopped as she turned and looked at him, surprise widening her eyes.

“What?! When...? Oh! I am going to fucking kill that two bit ...” she sputtered off into more Sperethiel.

Jase grinned, Corinne in a righteous tirade was a sight to behold, and man did she have a colorful and vivid imagination. She paced back and forth using her hands to punctuate her extreme displeasure. If he was translating properly it would seem that the gist of her ire was the timing of the multiple hits. When she finally ground to a halt he was waiting patiently. “Are you done?” he asked dryly.

She whirled around and pinned him to the couch with a glare. “No. I. Am. Not. How the hell am I'm supposed to fragging isolate this fragging mark if these motherless hoop humping drek baggers are fragging around, and fragging with my goddess-damned fragging fragged-up plans!?

Keeping a completely deadpan look on his face by sheer will, he quipped, “How the frag should I fragging know?”

She shot him a look of disgust. “Oh, how very helpful you are today!”

He suppressed a grin when, with that, she was off on round two of her epic hissy fit. He sat back and rested his ankle on his knee to enjoy the show.

                                                    


	4. Chapter 4

* O *

 

“If you ain't want to dead, don't born!” ~ LaRouge ~ Vodoon priest

 

Buck stomped down the hallway of their safe house, his heels pounding out a staccato beat on the tiled floor. He threw open the door to Chris’ office and made his way to the desk, snapping on the task light as he fell into the leather chair behind the desk. The light made a pool of brightness in the dark room. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk, dropping his head into his hands in despair. He only allowed himself a short time to sit there, then he forcibly shook off his mood and got to work. He dug out an incident report and filled it out, writing down every scrap of information he could remember from both the attack on JD and what little Falcon had found out from the hospital security about Nathan. The information was scanty,the camera had been tilted down and only caught the foot of the attacker and Nathan falling to the ground. Not near enough to go on. He hoped to God that Inez’ people would be able to get more. As it was the Seventh was flying blind and things were not looking good for their survival.

* O *

Chris stood and braced himself when a grim faced doctor entered the waiting area, looked around and then headed his way.

Doctor Gracen stopped short when the others joined him. “Mr. Larsen?” Her voice was husky and tense.

He nodded. “You have word on Nathanial Jeran?”

She bowed her head for a moment and Chris felt his heart race in sudden fear. “Yes, I’m sorry, sir, but the prognosis isn’t good. Mr. Jeran lost a lot of blood. He’s alive and we repaired the damage but...,” she paused and sighed. “If he survives it will be a miracle. I know as doctors we aren’t supposed to say things like that, but you look like a man who can handle and wants the truth. I suggest you take this time to say your goodbyes and get his affairs in order.”

“Thank you, Doctor for your honesty. Can we see him now?” Chris said slowly.

“Yes, but he isn’t awake you understand.” Her face held nothing but sympathy for the assembled men. It was easy to see what a tight knit group they were as they drew in closer together as if to ward off the news their friend was dying. She wished she had been able to give them better news, but in her opinion, the truth, no matter how unpalatable, was always better than false hope.

“Doctor,” Ezra stepped up next to Chris. “Are you familiar with Dr. Marjorie Potter?”

She nodded. “Yes, she is one of my colleagues.”

Ezra smiled fleetingly. “She is our primary physician. She has privileges here I believe?”

“She does.” The doctor furrowed her brow wondering where the man was going with this line of questions.

“Excellent. I believe that Mr. Jeren would benefit from having a familiar voice and touch during his final hours. So may we request that Dr. Potter be assigned as his doctor?”

Her face softened at the obvious pain the men displayed at the loss of their friend and she gently replied. “Of course. I will speak with the charge nurse and have them call her right away.”

“Thank you, doctor.” Ezra bowed slightly as he withdrew back into the group.

* O *

When the telecom beeped Buck almost didn’t answer it. He stared at the screen warily, it beeped again sounding somehow impatient. He snorted. What did he expect, it was after all Chris’. “Yeah?” He set the incident report he had been compiling aside.

“Buck. Get back to the hospital.” Vin’s voice was tense and clipped, drowning out the faint drawl of Tejas. "And Buck? Hurry."

Buck closed his eyes against the pain. “JD or Nathan?” He wasn’t sure he really wanted to know. Either way would be devastating to the team.

“Nathan.” Vin’s voice was so soft he almost didn’t catch it.

“On my way.” End Trans...

* O *

He made it to the hospital in time, but only by breaking several laws along the way. Ezra waved him into the room to say his goodbyes to his longtime friend. Buck slipped into the chair beside Nathan’s bedside and bowed his head in sorrow. The soft beeping of the heart monitor and the faint, stuttering intake and exhalation of Nathan’s breath was the only sound that broke the stillness of the ICU room. Buck searched for words to say, some way of letting go, saying goodbye. But how do you let a loved one just slip away? He was reminded of years ago when he sat next to his mother’s bed and watched as a once vibrant and vivacious woman wasted away with cancer ravaging her body. He thought at the time that he would never hurt that bad ever again. Sitting beside Nathan’s bedside he discovered just how wrong he was. He couldn’t let his friend go without saying something, but the words just clutched at his throat. “Nathan,” he finally choked out. “I am honored that you are my friend... and my brother. Go with God.” He glanced up at a sound in the doorway and saw Ezra waiting in the hallway. He stood and joined the shaman. “Have you seen him?”

Ezra shook his head. “No, I was waiting for you. I’ll go now.”

Buck patted him on the shoulder and left him standing hovering at the doorway as if reluctant to enter the room. He looked back and saw Ezra take a deep breath and step inside. He had just made it to the door when a strident alarm broke the silence and Dr. Potter made a mad dash from the nurses station to the ICU room. Buck stood frozen by the exit until he saw Ezra and the doctor leave the room with slumped shoulders and tear streaked faces.

“I’ll pronounce him in a moment, nurse.” Dr. Potter told her assistant. She waved the nurse back into the room. With a grave face she turned back to Ezra, drew him into a hug and whispered something to him. Ezra nodded and looked up to see Buck watching him with wide, stricken eyes.

Ezra closed his eyes against the pain he saw in his friend’s face and shook his head slightly. He turned back and quietly said something else to the doctor before making his way down the hall to where Buck stood frozen. He wrapped an arm around the sammy and led him out the door to the waiting room.

When the team saw them approach they all stood and one by one their faces fell as they realized that Nathan was gone. For years they had been seven and now in a sudden violent moment they were six.

Across the waiting room an unassuming man watched them while fiddling with his pocket secretary. Fred concealed a slight smile of satisfaction as his kill was confirmed by their shaman. One of the seven was dead and the team was reeling with the loss. That would make the rest easier to pick off and would twist the knife deeper before his final kill. Mr. D’Agostino would be pleased. Fred closed his pocket secretary and slipped it into his pocket before walking slowly past the remaining members of the Seventh and nonchalantly strolling out the front door to the parking lot.


	5. Chapter 5

“When your losing the game, change the rules.” ~ Cpl. Jake Jensen, UCAS Army decker. 

Jase stood in the shadows outside Revenge’s apartment and pulled his coat closer. The rain that had started around noon dripped down the back of his neck turning his shirt into a soggy, cold, clammy source of misery. It stuck to his back and made him shiver as he stared up at the window of her bedroom and did his best not to imagine her lying in her bed entwined with the big samurai. This assignment sucked. There was just no other way to describe it. He resented the hell out of the position he and his partner had been put in and he knew that it was not going to end well no matter which way he jumped. He kicked at a can that had fallen from the overflowing dumpster he half hid behind, gagging a bit at the stench emanating from the pile of trash at the base. The rain had done nothing to settle the smell, if anything it simply added to it by hydrating the organic material and speeding up the decomp. He shifted restlessly. If she didn’t get back soon he was going to give up and head back to his safehouse and call it an unproductive day. He had started down the alleyway toward his bike when he noticed a car pull up and an unwelcome but familiar man step out. Jase slid into the shelter of a doorway and watched as one of Fagetti’s hitters sauntered up to the door of Corinne’s apartment and pull out what he could only assume was an electronic lockpick. His eyes narrowed as the man opened her door and slipped inside. Making a quick decision he crossed the street and followed him. He pulled his pistol and eased through the door moving as silently as possible. Michael shouldn’t be anywhere near either of their flops. He shouldn’t even know where Corrine lived and that was a real worry. He peeked around the corner into the living room and spotted Michael planting a bug under the kitchen counter. With a vicious grin he retreated and headed back to his hiding spot in the alleyway. Once Revenge got back they could sweep the place and clear out all the listening devices, after they had a staged conversation that should placate the paranoid hit man.   
* O *  
The sound of the backhanded slap echoed in the barren room. Corinne’s lip spilt as Fagetti’s ring crushed it against her teeth. Her head snapped to the side with the force of the blow and she fell to her knees in shock.   
“Perhaps that will give him the incentive to spend more time with you,” Fagetti looked down at Corinne with a sneer.   
She crouched at the hit man’s feet, her eyes narrowed and doing her best to conceal her hatred for the man. Wincing at the sting, she licked her lip tasting the iron tang of blood. She snarled silently as she surged to her feet and fisted her hands fighting the urge to retaliate. It would do nothing, but get her killed so she locked her feelings down and bowed her head in mock submission. Spinning on her heels she left the room without a word.   
Once in her car and heading back home she set the auto pilot and angled the mirror down to asses the damage to her face. While not vain in the traditional sense of the word, her looks were vital to her job, just one more asset in her skill set. It was a way to control the men around her and she used that gift ruthlessly. It was necessary in her line of work. The men around her were intimidated by her beauty and perceived strength and it kept them at a distance, kept her safe. Fagetti had just put a big fat target on her back with one well placed backhand by displaying for all to see that she was vulnerable. She frowned at the bruise starting to form and the puffiness of her lip. Goddess damned son of a slitch was gonna pay for this she swore. But beyond the difficulties this created for her jobwise, what really had her worried was her partner’s inevitable reaction. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jase was going to go ballistic when he saw the damage. She had to figure out a way to spin this so he wouldn’t go all white knight on her and storm off to the castle to avenge her honor. Her partner was such a throwback sometimes. She winced at the sting when her smile caused the wound on her mouth to reopen.   
The traffic heading out of the downtown area was heavy and slow going with the rain so it took her almost an hour to get back to her safehouse in Englewood. The border guard looked at her curiously as she went through the checkpoint, even going so far as to ask her if she was ok. He didn’t seem to quite believe her when she assured him she was fine but he allowed her through with a nod after checking her ID. She wasn’t worried about being flagged. Her fake ID was the best that could be had and the forgery was flawless. The CAS sector of Denver had not been her first choice for the location of a bolt hole, but she couldn’t afford to stand out too much. She would be so relieved when this assignment was over and she could get back to her beautiful condo with all the amenities a woman could hope and long for. Dearest goddess she missed home with an ache so intense it took her breath away, but as nice as it was having her things around her, she missed her cat, Luke, the most. Especially on days like this when he would curl up in her lap and soothe her with his gentle purr. Luke, however, was currently with her brother, Keiran.and his family, no doubt eating him out of house and home and entertaining her nieces and nephews with his antics. In the meantime she made the best of a bad situation and decorated the little apartment she had rented as part of her cover with discount pieces and flea market finds. She was pleased with the results but it wasn't the same as being home. She pulled into her parking space and looked up at her windows with a sigh. As she climbed out of the car she heard a piercing whistle and looked over to see her partner in the alley watching her intently. She frowned and glanced around to make sure that the street was clear and that there were no watchers before she crossed the road, dodging oily puddles, to join him in the shadows of the building.   
“What are you doing in the alley?” she asked keeping her voice low. If he was hiding out here, she knew there had to be a good reason.   
“What the fuck?” He reached out a gentle hand, that belied the fierce expression on his face, and cupped her cheek. “Who did this?”   
“It’s nothing.”   
“Nothing?” He brushed aside her attempt to pass it off. “Don’t give me that shit Corinne! Now, who the fuck hit you?” Who am I going to kill? his furious tone said.  
"Look Jase, I had to make Spaghetti think he could push me around... you want this to look good don't you?” She laughed lightly, knowing even as she did that he wasn’t going to be convinced by her flippant explanation.  
“Don’t!” He pulled her into a hug and held on as if he thought she would disappear before his eyes.   
She stiffened as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. They were friends, close friends, and even though they had hugged before, this felt different and she was unsure how to respond. Every fiber of her being wanted to melt into his warm embrace and chase away the fear that had been riding her shoulder like a specter ever since the hit man had backhanded her. They stood there for what felt like hours as the rain changed from a light drizzle back to a downpour, until she shivered violently bringing them both back to reality. Her hair slipped out of the twist and hung down dripping water down the back of her neck in a steady stream and suddenly all she wanted was a hot shower. “Come on.” she murmured against his chest. “Let’s go upstairs and get cleaned up. Then we can eat and talk.”   
“Wait, he croaked out. “Michael was here earlier. He broke into your place and planted at least one bug. Maybe more. I followed him and saw him do it. That’s why I waited. Come with me, we can go to my flop, and then later we can come back, run the bug sweeper and clear the place out.”   
“Shit!” She grimaced at the mess her clothes had become standing so long in a downpour. The leather of her skirt would be ruined if she didn’t take care and the garment had cost her a pretty penny. “All right, but I need to change first and take care of this.” She waved her hand over her clothes. “Come on up and at least get warm while I grab what I need.”   
She led the way to her apartment and let him go first, knowing he would want to sweep through and make sure it was clear. Sure enough he stalked into her living room and studied the area with narrowed eyes. He motioned for her to join him and gestured to her room.   
‘Hurry’ he subvocalised. ‘I don’t want to stay here any longer than we have to.’  
She nodded and quickly went to her room closing the door quietly behind her. Wiggling out of her sopping wet clothes she carefully hung the skirt in the shower stall and made a note to take it to the cleaners at first opportunity. Maybe a professional could save it. She toweled her hair dry and caught it up in a low ponytail before slipping on a button up denim shirt and a pair of well worn jeans. All told it took her less than ten minutes and they were out the door again and heading for Jase’s safehouse.   
She eyed the dilapidated house he pulled up to with trepidation. The place looked like a stiff breeze could knock it flat. She hadn’t realized his finances where in such bad shape if he had been forced to resort to a place like this. Hell, her place wasn’t in the nicest sector of Treaty City, but even her roaches would be ashamed to be caught dead here. Her stipend for expenses was higher than his, she knew that for a fact, but that was because of her cover. The woman she was had a certain level of lifestyle she had to maintain while his cover was that of a low level mobster, only part way up the food chain. This however, was just so far below acceptable that she had no words to describe it. She wrinkled her nose in disgust at the surrounding neighborhood. He pulled around back and parked his bike in a detached garage and motioned for her to park behind him.   
Jase hid his grin at his partner’s obvious disdain for his bolt hole. And that was quite alright by him. He wanted anyone seeing it to discount it. So, far from being displeased, he was actually glad to see her reaction. That, and he knew she would change her tune once she got inside. He found he was anticipating showing her his house. She would be the first to ever see it, other than his brothers and they really didn’t count, since they helped him design and build the place up from the burnt out wreck he had gotten for a pittance, to a safe and comfortable home. Granted it went against all the unwritten rules and protocols to take anyone to a refuge like this. But it felt right to bring her here and he trusted his gut. In all his years it had only steered him wrong once and that was more because he had ignored the warnings and thought with his heart instead of his head. Of course Justin, his twin, would say he had been thinking with his dick, but what the fuck did he know? He waited until Corinne stepped out of her car and then led her in the back door. They paused in the mud room to shake off the raindrops and then he opened the main door and let her in.   
Whatever she had been expecting when she stepped into his house this was not it. The room spread out into a large open area with high ceilings. Along the left wall was an overstuffed dark brown couch with a blue, tan and rust throw draped casually across the back. In front of the couch a low mahogany coffee table sat on sturdy legs on top of a deep cream sheepskin rug, that would, she was sure, feel absolutely sinful in bare feet. A matching recliner was placed at an angle to the couch, with a wrought iron floor lamp just behind it. The far wall was completely dominated by a fireplace with a rustic mantel and a flag stone hearth. The walls had been painted a subdued restful green with darker green trim. Off to her right was a long wraparound bar that overlooked a small kitchen and in the corner, next to the doorway to the kitchen, sat a tiny table with two chairs. The over all effect was one of rustic masculinity and comfort. She stepped forward her heels clicking against the golden oak hardwood floor. She turned to see him watching her with something she couldn’t quite identify in his intense blue eyes. She unaccountably blushed, feeling the tips of her ears grow hot. And then her stomach flipped as he gave her a slow sweet smile.   
Jase smiled and walked past her into his living room. “Come on in and make yourself at home. Bathroom is through there,” he pointed to a doorway just past the couch. “The guest room is down the hall and up the stairs on the right.” He walked into the kitchen, opened the freezer and pulled out a coldpac. “Here.” He held it out to her as he entered the room again. “For your face.”  
Having gotten her blush under control, she accepted the pac and set it down on the table while she shrugged out of her armored jacket. “Thank you. This is lovely, Jase.” She waved a hand to indicate the room. She picked up the pac and held it to her cheek flinching at the icy cold. Her lip throbbed for a moment as her heart rate increased. She wandered over to the couch and sank down with a heartfelt sigh of relief as it cradled her aching body.   
If anything his smile just got brighter. “Thank you,” he said. “I hoped you would like it.” He studied the damage to her face from the livid bruise to the split lip. His eyes narrowed as a deep seated rage built at the thought of Fagetti daring to lay a hand on his woman... er partner.   
“Jase, stop growling. I’m fine.” She shot him an exasperated look. Really, men could be so... overbearing sometimes. She kicked off her shoes and buried her toes in that incredible rug. She let out a little moan of appreciation and sensual pleasure as her eyes drifted shut.   
Jase’s breath caught at the look of pure ecstasy on her face as she dug her feet into the sheepskin. He froze in place staring at her as she moaned in pleasure. He was supremely glad she could not see the thoughts that flashed through his mind in that moment. She would either slap him or shoot him and he wasn’t really sure which he deserved more.   
She opened her eyes to see Jase gazing at her with a look of hunger that she had never thought to see in his extraordinary blue eyes. It was a look she had seen in the eyes of many men. Men that wanted to posses her body, her money or just claim her as a trophy that proved their prowess to the world, but this was different, this was Jase and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it wasn’t her looks, her wealth, or anything she possessed that he wanted. It was just her, plain, simple and oh so right... She could hear that voice in the back of her head screeching that this was a disaster in the making. That she had to turn back, right the fuck now, before she was lost beyond all redemption. Before she pursued him right over a fucking cliff to be dashed onto the sharp rocks at the bottom. She watched in mute fascination as he leaned toward her. Her eyes tracked his lips as they moved closer and closer and her eyes drifted shut as a gentle kiss brushed against hers. She sighed as the warmth of his mouth chased away the cold. The kiss was soft, barely there as he carefully avoided hurting her. His hand rose to cup her cheek, and she leaned into it. “Jase...” her voice was low and soft as she breathed out his name.   
He could hear the longing in her voice as she whispered. It echoed his own. Without even stopping to think about the utter mess he was about to create, he rose to his feet and tugged her hand. He smiled as she rose and flowed into his arms. He held her tight against his chest tucking her under his chin. He breathed in the scent of her, sweet and woodsy. Felt the silk of her hair against his face and the warmth of her body pressed to his, soft where he was hard, her curves fitting against his angles in perfect harmony. He ran his hands along her back, comforting and soothing her tremors as she trembled in his embrace. Sliding down he cupped her ass pulling her close so she could feel his need and desire for her. She sighed again and he knew she was his, for this night if never again. He released her, only keeping contact with her hand, and led her into the hall and up the stairs to his room. He stopped unsure if he was doing the right thing, Wondering if it was what she wanted. She followed him and stopped beside his bed. Turning she gave him a heated glance that seared him right down to the bone. At that moment in time he would have followed her anywhere, even to the very gates of hell.   
She watched him as he stopped at the foot of his bed. In his eyes she could read the question. Was she sure? She answered him with a look filled with all the passion in her heart. She might regret it tomorrow, but tonight she craved the comfort of a man who wanted her not for what she could give him or what she represented but just for herself. One night... spent in his arms. She could do that. Just one night to feel loved for herself. Surely that would be enough. 

With a low groan of relief he pulled her close and brushed her lips, cheeks, and eyes with gentle whispers of kisses. He buried his face in her neck and breathed in her perfume. He whispered her name as he reached up and pulled the tie from her hair running his fingers through damp curls that wrapped around his fingers like an embrace. Then he sank down on the mattress pulling her onto his lap as he continued to coax sighs of pleasure from her. His hands crept up under her shirt as he caressed her soft skin and the tips of his callused fingers barely brushed the lower band of her bra. She shivered against him and suddenly he was impatient to feel her bare skin against his own. She chuckled, low and sensual, as his fingers fumbled trying to undo her buttons.The sound sent a shiver down his spine and with a muffled curse he pulled, grinning as buttons snapped and shot across the room. Then he pulled his own shirt up and off and tossed it, not giving a damn where it ended up, then he pulled her down to rest on his chest and kissed her with all the pent up longing he had felt since the first day he had met her. He rolled taking her with him until he lay nestled in the v of her legs, covering her with his body. He reached over and snapped off the light and preceded to show her exactly how he felt.   
* O *

The smell of Fagetti's rich imported coffee was filling the room as it percolated in his expensive French Press. The hit man paced as he waited for it to finish, his obvious irritation bleeding over, making his movements sharp and impatient. At the best of times Harold was not a morning person and this debacle was not by any stretch of the imagination the best of times. More like a clusterfuck in the making. Why couldn’t those irritating men of the Seventh just die? It was like something was watching over them allowing them to slip the noose over and over again. He ground his teeth in frustration. And now that useless slitch Revenge had failed to take out Stud when he told her to. He was surrounded by idiots who couldn’t find their way out of a wet paper bag!  
Fred idly cleaned his fingernails with a tiny pocket knife, while he watched Fagetti pace the room. “I take it she did not return to her apartment?”   
“No, she did not.” The hit man growled. He turned to the assassin. “There is some question as to her loyalty. She has been seen talking to a man who we know is a LEO. Take her out.”   
“Are you sure you want to do that just yet? After all, she has not yet fulfilled her assignment. We could just keep an eye on her until her target is dead, then kill her.” He cocked his head to the side as he contemplated the best way to make the hit. Jase, one of Fagetti’s hitters, had taken a shine to the girl and seemed to always be hanging around her. He snorted. The man had about as much chance getting into the slitch’s pants as a troll did, but he could be a problem if he was around when the time came for her life to end. Ah well, if he got in the way, Harold could just hire his replacement as well.   
“Yes, I’m sure. She has become a liability. We can not take the risk of her turning on us.” Harold said. “We will find another way to take out her target.”  
“As you wish.” Fred put away his knife. “I did warn you about her,” he said mildly as he stood. He shot Fagetti a smirk as he walked out of the room.   
* O *  
Corrine awoke feeling like she was trapped in a cocoon of blankets. She wasn’t sure why exactly she couldn’t move until her pillow moved under her cheek and then like a flood memory returned and she groaned. ‘What the fuck have I done?’ was the thought foremost in her mind. She sat up and looked at her partner. He looked so much younger while he was sleeping. His hair was mussed, falling over his eyes and the lines of stress were smoothed out leaving his face relaxed and at peace. She reached out and gently brushed his bangs back, freezing as he stirred. Pulling back she waited until he settled down and then carefully slipped out of bed. She pulled on her clothes and crept out the door and padded down the stairs in her bare feet. The sun warmed hardwood floor felt good under her toes as she crossed the living room. She stepped into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of juice chugging it down quickly. Then she rinsed the glass and left it in the sink. Casting one last glance around she sat down and put her shoes on then slipped out the door locking it behind her. He would probably be upset when he woke to find her gone but she just couldn’t face him first thing this morning. She had to think first. Had to decide if this changed everything and if she could continue to work with him. She had to be able to do her job after all and sometimes that meant sleeping with other men.   
* O *  
Corinne pulled into the parking lot of Underhill and made her way into the cafe. This early in the morning there wasn’t a wait and the host led her over the small bridge and around a tree, seating her in a nook in the back corner. She settled in her chair and listened to the gentle sound of the brook that ran through the middle of the room. The dim blue lights over each table and the fairy lights twinkling in the rafters like stars added a mysterious ambiance to the restaurant. The floor was carpeted by grass and moss adding a woodsy scent to the rich smells coming from the kitchen. An elven waiter hurried up to the table and placed a basket of bread and whipped butter on the table. She placed her order and sat back to relax with a cup of coffee while she thought.   
This... thing with Jase was a real worry. How he reacted, would determine whether she was going to have to get a new partner. She didn’t want to. He was good, really good at his job and she had never felt safer in the field than when she knew he was out there backing her up. But she of all people knew that sex had a way of making even the most level headed of people react in ways they never would have ordinarily. And he had never been what she would call level headed where she was concerned. Possessive, over protective, and irrational maybe. Ok, if she was completely honest with herself she was the same way with him... but that was different. It wasn’t like she was jealous when he went out with women. Although his taste in ladies could be better. It was just that she was concerned for his safety. She snorted delicately. Right! Tell yourself another one, Corinne. Oh Goddess! Shit... Fine! Jealous? How about the green eyed rage monster screaming in the back of her head? How’s that for honest? The truth was she wanted to scratch the eyes out of any woman who looked at her partner. She dropped her face into her palm in frustration. This was so not good. She never should have given in and now it was all going to be fucked up and it was all her fault.   
The waiter returned interrupting her train of thought as he refilled her coffee and placed her order on the table. She ate slowly wanting to delay her return to her apartment and real life. They still had to go through the place and clear out any bugs left by Fagetti’s man. That was the problem she needed to be focused on. Not this... thing with Jase. That and how to get the real job done. Gathering enough to take down the Don without getting killed in the process. And then there was the whole assignment with Buck. She fingered the bruise on her face. She had taken too long to complete the assignment and Fagetti was not going to accept any more excuses as to why she hadn’t taken the samurai out yet. Maybe if instead of killing him, she just captured and contained him and told Fagetti he was dead. She might be able to convince him. With help. Which brought her right back to her partner. She couldn’t do this alone and until they were out the other side they were going to have to put aside what had happened between them and focus on the job. Afterward they could work it out. Nodding sharply to herself she paid her tab and headed home.   
* O *  
Fred looked around the small apartment. Revenge had good taste in decor. It wasn’t overly feminine like some women. He couldn’t stand all the frilly stuff some females seemed to delight in. The recliner was a comfortable place to wait for her so he stretched out. He had been waiting almost two hours when he heard the sound of a car door slamming shut and footsteps coming up to the door. He stood and stretched, preparing himself for the coming fight. He didn’t delude himself that she would go easily. He moved so that he would not be seen as she came through the door. No need to give a warning after all. He grinned sharply in anticipation. The door swung open and she stepped through into the entryway and looked around. Really it was a shame she had failed, and he regretted that such beauty had to be sacrificed.   
As she stepped through her door, the hair on the back of her neck rose. She stopped in her tracks and looked around. Something was off, something that was out of place. There was a presence here in what should have been an empty room. Then she noticed the recliner had been moved. Just a hairs breath out of place but that was enough. She turned and made a run for the door thanking the Goddess that they had seen fit to give her wired reflexes. She felt the surge of strength and speed as they kicked in, giving her that extra boost that allowed her to dodge the bullet that slammed into the doorjamb beside her face. She ducked and threw herself through the door slamming it shut behind her. The door automatically locked when closed so that would give her precious seconds when whoever was in her home had to open it. She jumped the stairs and landed badly, barely holding back a screech as her ankle turned under her. Limping as she ran she headed toward her car, only to turn away at the sight of one of Fagetti’s hitters leaning against it waiting for her. She headed to the alleyway across the street where the night before she had stood in the pouring rain wrapped in her partner’s embrace. She wished with all her heart that he was with her now and just hoped that her decision to leave him this morning wouldn’t be the one that got her killed. As she slipped into the alleyway she heard the door opening behind her and she ducked into the shadow of the dumpster to hide. Cut off from her vehicle and hurting she held her breath as Fred stepped out onto the landing and looked around for her. He called to the man by her car, his words lost in the rush of her breath and the pounding of her heart. The hitter shook his head and Fred frowned before stepping back into her apartment and shutting the door behind him.   
* O *  
Jase stewed outside Fagetti’s office while he spoke with the Don. He had awakened that morning to find Corinne’s already gone, the only evidence that she had ever been there the elusive scent of her perfume lingering in his bed and a single glass in the kitchen sink. He wasn’t sure what had been running through her mind to make her leave before he even woke up but he felt he had a pretty good idea, but right then was not the time to be worrying about the change in their relationship. He crept up and listened to the muffled conversation he heard through the crack under the door. When he heard ‘Spaghetti’, he suppressed a snicker as Corinne’s nickname for the hit man came to mind, mention Revenge and Fred in the same sentence his amusement abruptly fled and he knew it was time to get out. He didn’t hesitate, simply spun on his heels and silently slipped out of the office. As soon as he was clear of the building he headed for his bike and pulled out his pocket secretary to call Corinne. It went straight to her voice mail. “Corinne, we’ve been made. Get to my bolt hole and wait for me. I will get there as soon as I can. Watch your back.” ~ End Trans...  
The next call he made was to their handler. “Sackett. 04291. We have been made, request immediate extraction.” He fumed when the man was silent for a minute.

“Acknowledged, Agent Sackett. Get to a safe house and await further orders.” The man’s voice was calm and even. 

“Frag that. My partner is out there in the wind!” he snarled. “There is no way I am letting her get whacked cause you idiots sent Noran in and compromised us. This is on you Galan! Now, shut the fuck up and work on getting us out of here while I go find her. I will contact you again when we are safe and you damn well better have that set up or I swear, by all that is holy, heads are gonna fucking roll.”~ End Trans. He secured his pad, pulled his helmet on and mounted his bike. First stop was Corinne’s place, after that? Well that depended on the situation now didn’t it? He just hoped he could get to her before Fred did. 

* O *

Jase watched from the shadows as Fred’s wet team crawled over Corinne’s neighborhood looking for her. Her car was sitting outside her apartment watched over by Michael. That put her on foot, which limited her range. Fred was screaming at one of the men for some imagined mistake. The assassin was never what Jase called stable at the best of times, but it appeared that now he was slipping even further over the sanity line. So far she had managed to evade them but how much longer could she stay ahead and why the frag hadn’t she contacted him? He drew deeper into the room where he had taken refuge, when one of the team looked his way. It was unlikely that anyone would see him up here, but why take chances? He watched for another hour until it was clear that Corinne had either escaped or gone to ground. Either way Fred wasn’t going to find her here. He slipped out the back and headed down the stairs. He was sure she would do her best to get back to his safe house, and thanked God he had ignored the protocol that warned against telling anyone, even your partner, about your personal bolt hole. At least now she knew a safe place to run to. But why the frag hadn’t she called? Slipping out the back door he turned the corner and walked into a fist. Jase stumbled back coming to an abrupt halt against a solid wall of muscle. His arm was almost wrenched out of the socket as Dino, Fagetti’s pet troll, grabbed his wrist and introduced it to his shoulder blade. Jase couldn’t hold back the cry of pain as Dino and his pal, Nico, the owner of the fist, frog marched him back around the corner toward Corinne’s apartment. 

* O *

ICE ~ Intrusion Counter Measures – programs designed to attack and/ or trace intruding deckers. Black ICE- programs that set up lethal feedback in a decker’s brain- designed to kill.  
DSN~ data storage node  
SAN ~ system access node  
A.M.F.~ Good-bye, typically derogatory. From the acronym, "Adios, Mother-Fragger." 

 

Ch. 

“Revenge? Nah I’m too damn lazy. I’m just gonna sit back and let karma fuck you up.” ~ Stud - Street Sammy

 

Corinne huddled in the drain pipe and silently cursed as yet another of Fred’s hounds stalked by looking for her. She wiggled further back holding her breath as the stench of sewer surrounded her. She fought desperately to avoid vomiting, but at last lost both the battle and her lunch, as a reeking wave washed over her feet and the oily sewage made her skin crawl.   
At last the hitter seemed satisfied that she wasn’t in the vicinity and moved on. She breathed a sigh of relief and was preparing to withdraw when she caught sight of Dino and Nico dragging Jase between them. They had his arm wrenched up and even from a distance she could tell he was in pain. The two men threw Jase to the ground at Fred’s feet. The assassin leaned down and grabbed her partner by the hair and pulled him up so that they were nose to nose. He pressed his gun under Jase’s chin and Corinne drew in a horrified breath, sure she was about to witness her partner’s murder. “Jase!”  
Jase gagged and gasped for breath as the gun pressed against his windpipe. He didn’t dare answer Corrine until Fred turned away for a moment. “’Rinne, run! Don’t call in. Compromised. I lo...” He fell silent as Fred backhanded him across the face with the pistol, sagging in Dino’s grip.   
Corrine gritted her teeth until her jaw ached as they dragged Jase to the car and dumped him into the trunk. She held her position and identified every person as they climbed into their vehicles and left taking careful note as to which direction they turned as they left her narrow line of sight.   
Somehow she had to rescue Jase. How she was going to do that she had no clue but one way or another she was going to get him back, no other outcome was acceptable! ‘Hang on Jase. I’m coming!’ Without her purse, which held her cred stick and pocket secretary, and her vehicle, she was cut off from any support, afoot, and on her own with limited options. One by one she considered those options; She could try and make it to Jase’s bolt hole, but it was to far to walk, and with no money she couldn’t get a cab or even public transportation. Without her pocket secretary, she had no way to contact anyone to be picked up. Jase said their handler was compromised, so calling in for an extraction would just send up a big flag saying ‘Come and get me,Fred’. And, to top off already her shitty day, even her secondary bolt hole was being watched. How they ever found it was a mystery but when she found out, she had the feeling that someone was going to die. There was one option she didn’t really want to take, but after considerable consideration she didn’t see that she had much choice. She could try and make a run to the Seventh and see if they would give her sanctuary. It was a long shot. After all, other than Stud, none of them had even met her and they had no reason to trust her. But he at least was a good man, and she thought that maybe he would at the very least allow her to contact...someone. Of course without her badge to verify her story he was going to have to take her word for it, and getting to him in the first place was not going to be any picnic. Little say her just showing up at his safehouse. That could quite frankly get her killed as fast as stepping out for Fred to find her. But she was out of ideas, and no matter which way she jumped was risky. At least with Stud she stood a chance at getting out alive and if he did kill her it would be fast. With Fred she didn’t stand a snowballs chance in hell of surviving and her death would be slow and as painful as he could make it. Decision made she crawled deeper into the sewer until she reached the main line and followed it out of her neighborhood.   
What followed was a nightmare as she made her way on foot out of her zone and into Purgatorio. After hours spent dodging go gangs and being chased by a couple of ghouls intent on eating her, she finally made it to Stud’s safe house. She was bedraggled, sore, and pissed as hell when she knocked on the door to the garage. She stepped back and looked up at the camera, making sure they got a good look at her face. A mechanical voice crackled over the small speaker beside the vid feed. “Who are you and what’d ya want?” the voice snapped.   
She bowed her head for a second, thankful to find someone at home. “Special Agent Corinne Carnesîr, UCAS FBI. I am in trouble. I need to speak to Stud, please.” There was a wait of several moments before the speaker crackled to life again.   
“Stand by. On your knees, hands laced behind your head.”   
She slowly sank down on her knees, following instructions and said a quick prayer that she had made the right decision.   
It was a couple of tense minutes while she waited, but at last the garage door began to rise. Five men, stood spread out, various weapons pointed at her, and if the situation wasn’t so charged with tension she would have giggled that they went through all of this just for her. She was able to identify them all from the holos Fagetti had passed around all those months ago when this whole debacle had started. From his place in the rafters Falcon aimed a Draganov Sniper rifle at her. She knew the man was a deadly shot. One twitch and he could put a bullet through her brain faster than she could think. Lobo, their leader was standing off to the right, his Predator held unwaveringly on her. Ace, the shaman, was standing behind him studying her with an appraising eye, but unlike most men, there was nothing lustful in that steady gaze. Just a sense of being weighed and measured. Their mage Prophet was on the other side of the garage half hidden behind a vehicle. The scent of brimstone gave away the presence of his fire elementals. And standing in the middle was Stud watching her with narrowed eyes. “Federal Agent? I thought you said you were in marketing?” he said mildly.   
“I am undercover. And I need your help.” She looked up at him bleakly. “My partner has been captured, we have been compromised, and I have a hit on my head. I know you have no reason to trust me but can we at least get off the street? Then I will answer whatever questions I can.”   
“She believes what she says, Lobo.” The shaman spoke up.   
The sammy nodded in acknowledgement. “Get up and move in here slowly.” She rose to her feet taking care to keep her hands on her head. Then took a few stumbling steps forward until she was inside. The door slammed down behind her which made her twitch and have to stifle an undignified squeak.   
As the men moved to cover her the shaman’s nose wrinkled. “Good Lord, woman. First things first. Into a shower with you. Go stand over there and let Stud hose you off. I will get you a towel and some clean clothes while we wash yours.” He bustled off, disappearing through a door in the back of the garage.   
Stud gestured toward the far side of the room where she could see a hose and a drain set in the plascrete floor.   
She turned to look at him incredulously. “He was serious?”   
Stud smirked at her. “Completely. And since he does most of the cleaning around here, I don’t suggest you argue with him. Don’t worry sweetheart. No one is gonna hurt you, unless you give us a good reason.”   
Reluctantly, she walked over and slowly started to remove her shoes, setting them aside to be cleaned. She glanced up in the rafters and saw the sniper, Falcon grinning down at her.   
Raising an eloquent eyebrow, she disdainfully turned her back, offended dignity clearly displayed in her body language.   
Falcon chuckled and swung down dropping lightly to his feet. He sauntered over to Lobo and leaned over to whisper something before leaving with Prophet by the same door the shaman had. Prophet stepped back through a moment later with a fluffy towel, soap, shampoo and a brush. He handed them to Stud and left without a word. Lobo nodded to Stud and followed his teammates.   
“There,” the samurai said with a twinkle in his eyes. “I trust that you don’t expect us to leave you alone.”   
She chocked down unexpected tears, waiting a beat until she could get her voice under control. “No, I know better than to expect privacy.” She unbuttoned her shirt allowing it to fall to the floor and wiggled out of her jeans. She left her underwear on and turned to face him with a defiant glare.  
He grinned and hit her with a stream of cold water that made her yelp in outrage. 

Once she was cleaned up enough to be deemed worthy of stepping into their home they let her in, shivering and hair dripping, looking, she felt, like a drowned devil rat. It made her grumpy to be seen in such a state and it occurred to her that they did it on purpose to put her off her game. Fair enough, she deserved it given that she had lied to Stud. And if the price she paid for a safe haven was a loss of dignity it was, all things considered, a small fee to pay.   
Stud led her down a long hall to a surprisingly large living area that was actually more tastefully decorated then she would have given them credit for. The rest of the team was waiting for them and spread out around the room. Falcon was lounging on one of the couches his long legs thrown over the arm watching a game on the trid. As she walked up he switched the set off and sat up. Stud indicated a comfortable looking seat facing the couches and sat down next to the sniper. The others joined them surrounding her with five pairs of eyes watching her intensely. She felt like she was surrounded by a wolf pack and she was a tender doe. She cleared her throat nervously. Dear Goddess, what was it about these men? She had worked with alpha males for years and had never felt this off balance in her life.   
Lobo stared at her with something she couldn’t quite describe in his greyish green eyes. “You wanna start at the beginning?”   
She nodded slowly. “My name is Corinne, I’m a UCAS FBI agent assigned undercover with my partner to gather evidence to take down the D’Agostino cartel.” She paused as the men stiffened.   
“So meeting me wasn’t just a coincidence?” Stud said fiercely.   
She bowed her head. “No, it was not. I was tapped for the wet team who got the hit on you all. Fagetti told me to get close to you and take you out.”   
“Shit, woman! What the hell is this? Fuck with Stud month or something...” Stud stopped his tirade abruptly when Prophet laid a hand on his shoulder.   
“Let the lady talk, Stud,” the mage said calmly.   
“You don’t think I actually like doing this do you! It’s my fucking job! My and my partner’s lives are on the line. If I don’t obey orders we get dead, damn it. I didn’t know you, Stud. It is nothing personal, but all you were was a name and a fucking holo pic!” She stared at him furious and defensive. “For what it’s worth I never had any intention of going through with it. But I had to make it look good, because as long as they thought I was going to take you out they left you alone!”   
Buck opened his mouth to retort only to snap it shut again at Lobo’s quiet command. “Enough.” (change order to cause then effect ) All eyes turned to the samurai as he sat forward intently studying Corrine. “Tell us about your partner.” 

* O *  
An annoying drip roused Jase to agony. He viewed the dingy room through slitted eyelids, both eyes swollen to the point he could barely see. His nose ached and blood sluggishly ran down past his lips and dripped off his chin to spatter on the ground below. He hung from a hook high on the wall and his wrists burned from the strain as the cuffs dug into his abraded flesh. He tried to straighten up but yelped as his left knee gave out, unable to support his weight. He panted, his breath harsh and loud in the silence of the room as he tried to get the pain under control. Panic set in as his vision grayed and something in his chest grated as he struggled to get a deep breath. On the verge of passing out again, stray thoughts ran through his mind, memories of happy times with his brothers, the smell and taste of Corrine on his tongue. No! He stopped his thought there. He mustn’t think of her. A mage with the right spell might coax his thoughts to the surface like a sprinkle of food on a pond drew fish. Fred had asked about her, where she would go and what she would do. Jase had no idea but the master assassin hadn’t believed him and the beating had continued until Jase passed out. He knew it was just a matter of time before they came back and the questions resumed. In despair he looked around the room where he would die. It was bare of anything but the hook on the wall, a single chair, and a car battery. The rust red and black stains of old blood spattered the floor in a macabre design and the sharp ozone stench of piss and pain permeated the walls. Jase gagged at the copper penny and ammonia taste on the back of his tongue. His only solace was she had gotten away and Fred was pissed. He grinned sharply. He knew rescue wasn’t going to happen. He would die here, slowly and in agony. But as long as she was safe, he would endure until the end... and then he could rest. 

* O *  
Corrine brushed her hair back and stared into the mirror. The long hours spent debriefing the Seventh and planning to rescue her partner had left dark circles under her bloodshot eyes. She looked like hell and felt worse. She methodically washed her hands, holding her emotions at bay with gritted teeth. She would not break down in front of these men. She knew what she must do, silently told the woman in the mirror to put aside feelings and weakness, to stop the fucking tears that leaked steadily down the side of her nose and dripped into the corners of her mouth. She licked her lips tasting salt and brutally scrubbed at her traitorous eyes, hoping the cold water would wash away the evidence before she had to face her reluctant allies. She knew they would use any excuse to leave her behind when they went after Fagetti, but she also knew that while they would not be gunning for Jase, neither would they go out of their way to see he wasn’t collateral damage. It was up to her to ensure that didn’t happen. 

* O *

Lobo tossed Corinne a spare set of body armor. She caught it with a nod of thanks, stripped to bra and panties and slipped it on. It was a little too tight around the chest and a little too loose around the waist but any body armor was better than none. She put on her jeans and shirt and sat down to lace up a spare set of combat boots Ferret lent her. Her ankle throbbed as she pulled the laces tight forcing a groan out past gritted teeth. 

Ace glanced over at the agent and frowned at the fleeting grimace of pain that crossed her face. He dropped his jacket on the bench and crossed the room to squat beside her. “You are injured.” 

It wasn’t a question, so she simply nodded. “Twisted my ankle getting away from Fred.” 

He reached out and rested his hand on her calf. He lifted a sardonic eyebrow when she flinched at his touch. “Just a bit of healing is all, Miss Carnesîr.” His fingers suddenly glowed a brilliant green. 

As the light faded from his hands, the pain drained away until there was barely a twinge when she set her foot down. “Thank you.” 

He nodded gravely. “It is nothing I assure you.” He rose and continued with his preparations leaving her to her thoughts. 

O * O

JD parked the city master down the block from the restaurant. He jacked out and turned his seat to face the back. 

“Ferret, send out your spy drones and get us a head count on guards. Ace, you get started on the invisibility. Let’s try and do this as subtle as we can. And Ace, no blowing up the block this time.” Chris shot the shaman a grin. 

Ezra rolled his eyes as he started casting.

O * O  
Michael blinked sleepily at the monitors. Of all the shifts he had to work the early morning hours were the worst. Suddenly awake he shuddered as the camera cycled through to the holding cell and the image of the battered man hanging from his wrists. His gut clenched as he scanned the damage Fred had done to him. Fagetti wasn’t the easiest man to work for but to torture one of his own men because of a tentative connection with one of the others was frankly crossing a line that should never be crossed. There was no evidence at all that Jase had betrayed them and Michael felt sick at what they had done to the man. Frag! It could have been any one of them strung up in that room and he wouldn’t wish Fred on his worst enemy. What kind of future was there in the family business if this was how it was going to be? Family, Mr. D’Agostino had always said, was about loyalty, but where was the loyalty in this? Shouldn’t it go both ways? With Revenge the question was simple. She had been seen talking to some cop, so he could understand the need to take her out. But with Jase it wasn’t so clear cut. So the man had a crush on the slitch, Michael snorted, which one of them could say they didn’t?  But that wasn’t a good enough reason in his book to take him and try and torture information out of him. He, like all of them, had been forced to watch while Jase was beaten and questioned and even he could tell that the poor bastard had no clue where Revenge was or how to find her. But Fagetti just wasn’t listening and Fred... Fred got off on hurting people and didn’t give a frag who it was. 

“Jase? Jase can you hear me? Goddess, Jase answer me. Please don’t be dead... JASE! “   
Jase tried to open his eyes but only achieved a bare slit. The other eye seemed to be glued shut. Probably from dried blood given the number of hits he had taken. His body shook as he slowly pushed up on his one good leg trying to ease the pressure on his wrists. Sharp zings ran down his arms and spine as if he had been hooked up to a battery. Something had woken him but the thought skittered away as his body screamed at him. He tried to draw in a deep breath only to feel his broken ribs grating against each other as he moved. Agony shot through his chest and every gasp was a struggle for air. He couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. His stomach churned and he fought desperately against the bile trying to rise in his throat. If he threw up now he wasn’t sure he would survive.   
“Jase?”   
“C...’Rinne?” He hardly dared hope that she hadn’t been captured too. He frowned as he tried to get his thoughts in order. She shouldn’t be here. Why was she here? “”Rinne? No... no, not Rinne. Not really here. Go way ... Run... ya got to get away. Fred is coming. Run Rinne, can’t lose you....”   
“Shh Jase, hang on. We are coming to get you. Just hang on.”   
Her voice faded away to the very edge of his consciousness until he wasn’t sure if it had even been real or was just an auditory hallucination. He swallowed hard and concentrated on forcing his stomach not to heave. Slowly he got everything back under control and even though he couldn’t get the deep breath he craved, he was able to get enough for the panic to subside. 

*O*

Ferret took the drone up and across the street following the power lines to conceal the small remote from any one below. He circled the building searching for a vent or opening that would allow him access to the building. 

Falcon calmly checked his ammo and gear as he watched over the decker and Prophet who was making a check on the astral plane. He pulled out the night scope and focused his attention on the front window. Behind the cheerful curtains a light shone in the window and he could just make out the forms of two men sitting at a table close to the door to the kitchen. There was no sign of anyone else. Where were the other men located in the building? Closing his eyes he brought to mind the sketch of the layout that Agent Carnesîr had made for them. If it was accurate, chances were that the bulk of the men would be in the basement where the offices were located. He turned his attention back to his teammates as Prophet stirred.   
“They have a mage.”   
Falcon raised an eyebrow. “Defenses?”  
“Air elemental on patrol on the roof.” Prophet nodded toward the building.   
“Any wards?” Falcon asked.  
“No,” Prophet shook his head at the stupidity of the opposing mage. “May not have had time or the energy to set them up yet.”  
“So...”   
“So I send my boys to keep the elemental busy and we should have a clear shot.”   
Falcon nodded. “But you can’t do a recon of the interior without alerting the mage can you?”  
Again Prophet shook his head. “Nope,” he said. “Gonna be up to Ferret to scope things out for us.”   
Falcon glanced over at the decker’s prone form. “Good enough.” 

*O*

“He’s alive!” Corrine burst out.  
Lobo turned to her. “What? How do you know that?”   
She turned a curious glance his way. “I just talked to him.... on our com.” She flinched as Lobo growled.   
“What the hell?! You broke radio silence and risked letting them know we are coming?! Of all the stupid, hair brained...” He stopped and gritted his teeth.   
Corrine flushed and dropped her gaze under the his furious glare. 

“I outta throw your ass out in the street for putting my men in danger.”  
Her head snapped up, and she glared back. “That’s not fair. He's my partner! I had to know... had to tell him to hang on. I have a job to do and you may not like us much but we are out there protecting people from the bad element.”   
“Lady”, Lobo sneered, “We are the bad element. Or hadn’t you heard that Shadowrunners are criminals.”   
Corrine met his gaze steadily. “I just wanted to make sure that we had a reason to go in. If he was dead we wouldn’t, now would we? It was a calculated risk. It’s a private channel and no one else has our frequency.”   
Ferret jacked out and pinned her to her seat with a glare that matched Chris’s for ferocity. “Frequencies can be hacked.” he stated baldly. “Lobo is right. It was a damn fool move. You are just fucking lucky it’s the middle of the night and they don’t have a decker monitoring things. I heard you and if I did then so could they.”   
Falcon leaned forward. "If they had somebody as good as you. Relax boys. The guys in the front room haven't even twitched, so I doubt anyone noticed anything." He turned to Corrine. "Looks like you got away with it... this time. But chica, you pull another stunt like that and you're out. Claro?"   
Corinne pursed her lips and then nodded in agreement. “I understand.”  
Falcon frowned at the sullen tone of her voice. “I mean it, lady. We will get yer partner out, but you came to us for help and you agreed to let Lobo run this op. That means you do what he says, when he says and only what he says, or you can fucking do this on yer own. It’s no skin off our noses if yer partner dies. Just keeps these cesters off our backs awhile.” He waited while she alternately flushed and blanched.   
Corrine looked at the ground. Damn it they were right. It had been a damn fool move and she knew it. She was just so desperate to get Jase out of Fred’s hands that she hadn’t thought it through. Finally she raised her eyes and met Falcon’s steady blue gaze. “All right. I am sorry. I won’t do it again.” She whispered. “I just...” she paused and swallowed hard. “I was just afraid he might be dead. I had to know.”   
A brief flash of compassion shone in Falcon’s eyes. “We can understand that. Now let’s get this over with.”   
Lobo gave a sharp nod and turned back to Ferret. “Well? Were you able to get that drone inside?”  
Ferret frowned. “No, damn place is locked up tighter than a nun’s chastity belt.”   
Lobo snorted. “So we go in blind.”   
“No,” Ferret shook his head. “There is a way, but I’ll need ya to keep the greebly off my back while I work. Their system is isolated but there’s a camera over the back door. If I can get to it, I can jack straight into their system and then it’s mine.” He grinned, hazel eyes twinkling as he rubbed his hands together.   
Prophet’s eyes narrowed as he smiled. “Don’t worry about the elemental, me and my boys will take care of it. “   
Ace snorted and clapped Ferret on the back. “Come on weasel, let’s get you hooked up.” 

O*O  
While Prophet made his way to the roof, Lobo led the others as they carefully inched their way around the building toward the back. They hugged the wall avoiding the cameras as they went. Once they reached the back door Ace levitated Ferret up and held him in place next to the video feed.   
Ferret hovered in midair as he reached for his tool pouch. He crossed his legs Indian style as if he was sitting on the ground, pulled out a tiny screwdriver and got to work breaking into the camera. He carefully taped each screw to his leg. Once he had the casing off he stripped the wires, hooked them up to his cyberdeck and jacked in.   
O*O  
Ferret looked down as reality flickered around him and his filter fought against that of the system. The constant flipping back and forth was so rapid his stomach lurched. Sighing he switched off his deck’s attempt to force the VR to show him the Old West and allowed the sculpted system’s to take over and dictate what the virtual world around him gave him to work with. He found himself in a long hall with a single blank door at the end. Reaching up he pulled the hat off his head and looked at it. In place of the bowler he usually wore was an old fashioned driving hat with a subtle checked pattern. The tweed jacket and vest combo and the rather high waisted pants he was wearing were not that different from his normal checked suit and suspenders, save that the collar rather than being a band, actually came to a point.. His paws were crammed into a pair of patten leather shoes that pinched instead of his beloved cowboy boots, and his whiskers twitched at the scent of hair pomade that wafted up from the inside of the hat. Damn, someone had gone all out on the reality filter for this system. But what era was this from? He looked at the door again. Set high in the door was a tiny window. He put the hat back on, setting it at a jaunty angle and strode down the hall. Reaching out he tried to open the door but as expected it was locked. His whiskers twitched again. He could try and pick the lock or... He rapped his knuckles against the wood frame in an old, old rhythm . Shave and a haircut...two bits. The window slid open and a pair of black eyes stared out at him.   
“Yeah? What’da ya want?”  
O*O  
Ferret’s fingers flew over the keyboard as he typed in commands.  
O*O

He grinned and handed a card to the bouncer through the window. “Fagetti sent me.” He held his breath hardly daring to hope that his chutzpah would get him through the door.   
The man took the card and turned it over reading the code printed on the back. With a soft click the door swung open and Ferret stepped inside. He stopped abruptly as the goon in a monkey suit put a hand against his chest.   
The bouncer pointed his Tommy gun at the floor and cocked his head considering Ferret. A scowl crossed his face. “Who did you say sent you?” 

Ferret puffed out his chest. “Fagetti. Now you gonna let me in or do you want to explain to him why I’m late for our meeting?”   
The bouncer huffed as he withdrew his hand. He waved Ferret on and turned back to the door, freezing in place beside it.   
Ferret sighed. That was close. He looked around the room. Along the back wall was a long bar and above it an intricately etched mirror with shelves above, below and to each side. Bottles filled with brilliantly colored liquids filled the shelves, each one glowing softly in the dim light. Small tables surrounded a dance floor and a tiny stage which held instrument stands for brass, percussion and in the far corner a piano. Suddenly it all made sense. A speakeasy for the mobster. Ferret snorted as he rolled his eyes. It seemed the don’s decker had a sense of humor. In the back wall was another door with a tiny window. Beyond the door he could hear a quiet murmur of voices. He made his way across the dance floor and pressed his ear against the wood.   
“Hit me.”  
“The gentleman has an ace.”  
“I’ll stand”  
“Push”   
“Hit me”  
“The gentleman has a jack”   
“Hit me.”  
“The gentleman busts.”  
“Hit me.”  
“The gentleman has a Blackjack.”   
O*O  
Michael leaned forward and tapped the camera two monitor. Damn thing had been flickering all night. He pulled out his log book and made a note to call a repair man in the morning.   
O*O  
Ferret pulled out his lockpicks and gently teased the tumblers until he was rewarded with a faint click. He grinned and put his picks away, then sauntered through the door as if he owned the joint.   
The room was dim except for a bright spot of light over the card table that highlighted the cards and chips. The table was U shaped and the dealer stood in the belly of the U. He was dressed in a white button down shirt with sleeve garters and had a green visor on his head. Five stools were evenly spaced around the outside curve of the U.   
Ferret frowned. Damn, he hated trying to figure out the imagery of a sculpted system. Most of the time it was just so damn illogical. He ran a quick analysis on the node and grinned as it identified the camera array. Outstanding, now he just had to slip into the dealers spot and take over. It wouldn’t take long to set up a loop, then they could waltz in with no one the wiser. He spotted movement out of the corner of his eye and started to turn as a black figure rose from a chair behind the door and slammed into him.   
Falling to the floor Ferret rolled under the table and looked up at his attacker. The ICE towered above him, simian face set in a permanent scowl. The gorilla’s massive knuckles dragged the ground as it stomped toward him. Reaching down he grabbed Ferret’s ankle and dragged him out into the open. The bouncer pulled the brim of  his fedora down as he dragged Ferret to his feet. He clutched Ferret's shirt in one ham sized hand, made a fist with the other, and reared back.   
Ferret reached into his pocket and pulled out a banana. He waved it in the bouncer’s face and threw it toward the back of the room.   
The gorilla turned its head and watched the banana’s flight, giving Ferret the opportunity to pull his pistols. He placed the gun barrel against the bouncer’s temple and squeezed the trigger.   
O*O  
Ace frowned as Ferret’s heart skipped a beat, smoothed out and then faltered again. He sent a trickle of healing energy through his team mate’s body and kept a close watch on his meat as he made his way through the office system and hopefully let them in.   
O*O  
The bouncer knocked the gun to the side as it went off. He turned his attention back to Ferret and pulled him closer roaring in his face, fangs bared and gleaming wetly in the light, his eyes glowing a deep crimson.  
Ferret leaned back, desperately trying to get the gun up. He braced himself as the bouncer punched out catching him in the face. Stars exploded and his eyes crossed and watered obscuring his vision for a moment. He shoved hard against the gorilla’s chest and stumbled back and his shirt ripped, leaving scraps of fabric in the bouncer’s massive hand. Now that the big ape was no longer holding him up, he lost his balance and fell scattering the players and dealer as he crashed into the table. Chips and cards went flying as the table gave way under his weight and he shuddered in pain as he hit the floor hard. Ferret struggled to raise his firearm as the gorilla lumbered toward him, looming larger with every thunderous step. Ferret’s heart pounded in his chest as he got his pistol on target and pulled the trigger, pumping round after round into the bouncer. “AMF! “ he snarled as the ICE shimmered and disappeared.   
O*O  
Ace sent another wave of healing energy through Ferret’s body as he convulsed and his nose began to bleed.   
“He ok?” Lobo asked.  
Ace assensed the decker but other than the nose and a racing heart he found no more damange. “He’s fine for now.”   
O*O  
“Aw drek!’ Michael leaned forward and banged on the bank of cameras as the video feed was replaced by the hiss of snow on the monitors. Fagetti was not going to be pleased. For a moment he debated calling the boss but then he shook his head. The last thing he wanted to deal with at this time of night was a pissed off hit man. It would be much better to just call the tech in the morning and have it all fixed by the time Fagetti showed up.   
O*O  
Ferret laid still for a moment trying to catch his breath before looking around at the mess the fight had made of the node. If he was lucky the system hadn’t completely crashed or worse alerted more black ICE. When nothing else appeared he carefully sat up. ‘Well that’s one way to take out the cameras.’ However time was running out as dawn rapidly approached and he had to find the door controls fast. He backed out of the node and scanned the main room. There was nothing apparent on the stage so he moved across the room and slipped behind the bar. Under the counter he found a box with a brass grill over a hole and dials of some sort. It looked familiar somehow but he wasn’t sure where he might have seen such a thing. Dismissing it, he moved further down checking under and behind things. At the very end of the bar, under the beer tap, he found a bank of levers hidden in the shadows. He ran a quick analysis and almost crowed in triumph. Above each lever was a tiny light, barely bigger than a pin head, that changed from red to green as he slid it down.  He was about to leave when he suddenly remembered where he had seen the box. It was in an old book about communications devices and was called a telephone. He ran another analysis and chuckled softly. He gingerly knelt down and pulled out a tool kit and removed the back of the device. Inside was a hodgepodge of wires. He wasn’t sure which one to snip so he shrugged and pulled each one away from its connecter until the telephone was little better than scrap. Satisfied that no one would be getting a telecom call out tonight, he jacked out.   
O*O  
Lobo straightened up as the door unlocked with a soft click. “We’re in.” He turned to Corrine, keeping his voice low. “Agent, anything else we need to know before we start?”  
Corinne nodded. “The security office is on the second floor. They monitor the cameras from there,” she said. “The cell where they have Jase will be in the basement. There shouldn’t be more than ten men on site, but Fagetti might have anticipated something so don’t quote me on that.”   
Lobo eased the door open and slipped through, followed by his men and the fed. A moment later they were joined by Prophet who sported a fierce grin and smelled of brimstone and sulfur. Lobo nodded to the dwarf and led the way down the hall, pausing in front of the basement door. “Prophet, you and Ace do the recon.”  
Prophet sank down and crossed his legs. He closed his eyes and slipped into the astral plane. A heartbeat later Ace joined him. In the astral Ace’s face took on a decidedly feral cast and his hair shaded to a more foxy red. His elven features grew even sharper and his eyes glowed amber. The ghostly image of a fox appeared, wrapping around him like a cape and hood. Prophet grinned at his colleague. “Shall we? You want to go up or down?”   
Ace stretched and smiled at the dwarf. “I will go down. Shall we meet back here?”  
“Yes. Watch out for the mage. I don’t think I alerted him but you never know.” Prophet warned him.   
Ace touched his forehead with two fingers and sank through the floor. Prophet headed the other way and slipped through the ceiling, coming out in a hallway on the second floor. He drifted down the hall, peeking into the offices as he passed each one, until he came to the second to the last door. He looked down at the sliver of light that shone under the door. Sliding along the wall, he carefully stepped through. Sitting in a chair with a scowl on his face was a man. A samurai if the black spots in his meat where anything to go by. He didn’t have enough headware to be a decker, and his skeleton was laced with metal and carbon fiber, both of which showed flat black to Prophet’s mage sight. Too much for him to be a spell slinger. Prophet shuddered at the thought of how all that technology cut one off from the ebb and flow of magic. That was a fear every spell slinger lived with but so far he had been incredibly lucky that he had never had to go under the knife. Prophet shook his head, time enough for contemplation later, now was time to work. The man was sitting in front of a bank of some kind of technology but again, it all appeared as a flat black smear across the material plane, in contrast to the vivid glowing colors of living organisms. Even the sammy for all the crap he had installed in his meat was a vibrant spark against the dark background. The febbie had said the security room was on the second floor and he hadn’t seen another soul up here so this must be it. Prophet stepped back out into the hall and headed back to the first floor and into the dining room. Two men sat at a table in the front room playing cards and drinking something. Judging from their auras it was something alcoholic. He rolled his eyes at their stupidity. Fagetti must have scrapped the bottom of the barrel when he recruited these two. He went back to his body and slipped back in, He sat quietly for a minute readjusting to the change in his senses and perceptions. It was both a loss and a gain slipping from body to astral and back. On the one hand in his body he had his five senses and all the sensual pleasures and solidity of the material world, but on the astral plane to think was to be and there was a heady joy in the power and majesty of that as well.   
O*O  
Ace looked around the basement room. He shuddered at the cold miasma of misery he sensed. The stench of pain and fear permeated the walls and the fog it created was so overwhelming that it stifled the senses. How anyone could sleep down here boggled the mind! Were these men so devoid of humanity that they could no longer feel another’s agony? And the mage! Only one completely corrupted by evil could tolerate resting in this environment. Ace snarled, this place would burn before the night was over. His oath as a shaman on that. He silently drifted into the far room and stopped at the sight of the febbie. Jase hovered on the edge of eternity and if they had waited another day they would have been rescuing nothing but a corpse. He stepped through the wall into the next room. Five men slept in bunk beds along three of the walls. He took a good look around, spotting the mage as the only man without a bunk mate. He snorted. Figures. Ah well he would at least have company on his trip to hell. He headed back to his body to report.   
O*O  
“Stud, you and Falcon take out the two in the dining room. Then head upstairs and take out the security guy. The rest of us are going to wait here until you get back.”   
Stud screwed a silencer onto his Predator and nodded to Falcon. The two men made their way through the kitchen and paused at the exit out into the dining room.   
Corinne fidgeted while she watched the two confer and then Falcon reached out and eased the door open enough to allow his partner to slip through. It was so strange not to be hearing chatter on her tac channel, to be cut off from the conversation that she could tell was taking place on the Seventh’s com units. Even worse was being out of touch with her partner, but there was no fucking way she was going to give Lobo more ammunition for another dress down, so she settled for running her thumb along the back of her hand, a habit she had picked up while cramming for exams at Quantico. It was a tell of course but somehow the comfort she derived from that simple action, always seemed to over ride the urge to eradicate it.  

O*O  
Nico laid down a straight and grinned in triumph as he reached for the ring Tony had laid down as his bet. A flicker of motion caught his eye as he glanced up at his cousin. His eyes widened as the figure in the doorway to the kitchen raised a hand and he found himself staring down the barrel of an Ares Predator. Even with boosted reflexes he barely had time to flinch before the bullet entered his skull.   
Tony shrieked as his cousin's head exploded, throwing shards of bone, brain matter, and blood all over the table and floor behind him. He threw himself to the right, fighting gravity as he twisted so he could see who had just killed Nico. There was an explosion of agony low in his back as he hit the floor and another in his chest. Something was seriously wrong, for some reason he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. He looked up in confusion at the figure looming over him. The last thing he saw was a muzzle flash.    
O*O  
Stud stepped over their bodies, carefully avoiding the spreading blood pool and headed for the stairs, followed closely by Falcon.  
“Any idea how to get to this asswipe?” Stud asked keeping his voice low.   
Falcon shot him a look. “Other than with a crowbar?”  
Stud grinned. “I suppose we could blow him up.”   
Falcon rolled his eyes and snorted. “Oh yeah, cause that’s all kinds of subtle! Don’t worry about gettin in. I have a plan.”   
Stud turned and looked at him skeptically. “Oh?”  
Falcon nodded. “Yep,” he said cheerfully. “I’m going to knock on the door and he is gonna let us in.”   
Stud snorted. “All righty then. This I have got to see.” He led the way down the hall and stopped in front of the door. With a wave of his hand he indicated that Falcon should do his thing.   
Falcon smirked at his partner and stepped up, rapping his knuckles on the door. “Hey, open up, got a cup of soy-caf for ya.” He waited patiently as sounds from inside indicated movement and the second the door cracked open he charged, hitting the door with his shoulder. The door flew back crashing into the wall with a loud bang and the man on the other side fell backward landing on his ass with a wordless shout of surprise. He looked up at them eyes wide and Falcon felt a brief flash of regret as he put two rounds into the man’s chest. “Upper floors secured, Lobo. On our way back down.”  
“Copy.”   
O*O  
The men of the Seventh clustered around their leader at the head of the stairs subvocally discussing the best plan for prying the remaining mobsters from their lair. It was eerily silent even though Corinne could tell who was speaking by who they looked at. At last they turned to Stud and the big samurai’s blue eyes flashed with hatred and fury as he punctuated his point with a waving hand. Lobo nodded and flashed a glance at her before turning back to Stud. He said something which made them all chuckle. She huffed under her breath. Couldn’t they be bothered to even tell her what her part was in the coming fight? She shook her head and cautiously eased her way behind Ferret keeping him between herself and Stud. Somehow the decker wasn’t quite as scary as the rest of these men. She was pretty sure they wouldn’t deliberately hurt her but it paid to be careful.  When she looked up all of them with the exception of Falcon were starting down the stairs. She gave him a curious glance as she passed but he just grinned as he laid down on the landing and trained his rifle on the door into the ‘barracks.’  
The moment Lobo stepped off the bottom step there was a shriek as loud as a train whistle. Corrine flinched and almost missed the next step. A swirl of air coalesced in the center of the room and zipped into the room where the men lay sleeping. Lobo growled and shot Ace a glare. The shaman blushed and gave him a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. ‘Sorry,’ he mouthed.   
They all dove for cover when men in various stages of undress boiled out of the room, guns blazing. Ironically she found herself sheltering behind a hastily tipped table with Stud. She cowered in his shadow and prayed that he wouldn’t take the opportunity to shoot her simply on principal. Oddly she couldn’t find it in her heart to blame him if he did. This job had been fragged up since day one and she was heartily sick of the whole mess.   
Stud glanced her way and reached back pulling her further into the shelter of his body. “Keep your head down,” he snapped. He reached down and fumbled at his boot, finally drawing out a snub nosed hold out pistol and without even looking at her held it out.   
Corrine took the pistol and peeked out from behind the table. She squeaked and pulled her head back as a round impacted the table showering her with shards of wood. Over head came a loud crack as Falcon fired his Draganov. The rest of them opened fire as well and the barrage of sound assaulted her, echoing off the bare plascrete walls, until her ears rang. She almost laughed as she peeked out again and one of the men opposing them stood gaping at the corpse of their mage, who seemed to be missing his face, while two of them fell all over each other in their mad scramble to get a door between them and the devastating firepower of Falcon and his rifle. The last man locked eyes with her and snarled as he recognized her. His arm was a blur as he raised his weapon and fired.  She fell back against Stud reeling as what felt like a giant hand slapped her upside the head. Stud grabbed her and pulled her back into the shelter of the table covering her body with his own. “He’s boosted,” she managed to gasp. She wasn’t sure if he heard her over the roar of gunfire, so she clawed at his armored jacket trying to rise up high enough to yell in his ear. Grabbing his collar she dragged him down as she climbed up his body. Finally getting his attention she tried again. “Stud! He’s boosted!” She slumped into his arms as he nodded, his lips moving as he subvocalised the information to the rest of his team. The table behind her back shook as a barrage of bullets slammed into it. She cringed under the onslaught. Damn it would be nice to be able to burrow under the floor right about now. Then the Draganov spoke again and this time it barely registered on her senses, buried as she was under Stud’s bulk. Drek, another one down and she hadn’t even managed to fire once. The cacophony of gunfire lasted for what seemed like hours and abruptly stopped.   
O*O  
The last echo hadn’t even died away before Lobo was up and moving. ‘Falcon, you have high watch. Ace, take the woman and get her partner ready for transport. Stud, loot the bodies, Prophet loot the mage. Ferret get whatever you can out of their computer system and make sure we aren’t on it. We are out of here in five. Go.’  
O*O  
The sudden silence was almost louder than the firefight had been. There was a shrill high whine deep in her head which throbbed in time with her heartbeat. Cautiously she stirred, only to still again when Stud’s hand clamped down on her shoulder. He pressed her back down to the floor in a mute command to stay put, then he hefted his bulk off her. She glanced up and watched his face as he stood and stepped out into the open. He cocked his head as though listening to something and then his blue eyes narrowed and a thin smile of satisfaction crossed his face as he looked around the room. Finally his gaze came back and met hers and he nodded. She scrambled to her feet, swaying as she stood upright. Grabbing the edge of the table she steadied herself until her head stopped swimming and she caught her balance.   
“Go with Ace. We are out of here in five.” He watched her as she dashed across the room like she had been poked in the ass with a sharp stick, then turned back to his grisly task of looting the bodies.   
Ace followed Corinne as she hurried to get to Jase.   
O*O

Jase’s nose twitched at the scent of blood and cordite. It was quiet again, other than the annoying drip drip drip from the broken facet. Somehow it had gotten broken in the struggle when they shoved his head under the water.   
His lungs ached at the memory....

“Jase?” 

Jase? He knew that word, knew that voice. It called to him, demanding his attention. He shook his head trying to clear the fuzzy feeling away but the movement set off a wave of agony and he yelped as everything went grey and then black. 

Why am I moving? The thought chased around his head like mice in a cage. It felt like he was was falling, then the pressure on his wrists was released and his arms fell to his sides, the numbness in his shoulders and arms giving way to a raging fire as circulation returned .  His bare feet touched the ground, the cold plascrete greedily sucking the warmth from his toes and the soles of his feet, and his knee crumpled under his weight. Something held him up, keeping him from tumbling to the hard floor and he felt pathetically grateful. He tried to mumble thanks but a harsh moan was all he could manage. Even that sound tore at his parched throat like sandpaper across a sunburn. Please no more. 

 He struggled to open eyelids that felt like lead weights keeping him blind. There were voices all around him, speaking fast and clipped, urgent and rough with worry. He tried to listen, whatever was going on must be important, but his mind refused to focus. Everything was receding again. His hands clenched, grabbing hold of something warm. Some where above him came a gasp and something slid into the palm of his hand and squeezed. He tried again to open his eyes but they seemed glued shut and at last he gave up and allowed himself to slip down again into the comforting darkness. Down here Fred couldn’t get to him, pain had no meaning, here it was safe, warm and he could hide in the darkness. 

O*O

Ace tapped out a rhythm with his toes as his hands strove to weave the burnt and raged threads of Jase’s aura back together. The healing spell bolstered a faltering heartbeat, knit torn flesh, forced tortured lungs to draw in first one breath then another. But there was only so much he could do. If this man was going to live they had to get him to Potshot as fast as possible. “Miss Carnesîr, reach into my backpack and get the stretcher out and set it up. We need to move fast.” 

He reached into his waist pouch and pulled out a slap patch. Carefully peeling the backing off he searched for a patch of unmarred skin to apply it too. There didn’t seem to be a single place to stick it to that wasn’t covered with blood, vomit or grime, he finally settled on a spot on his side just below the armpit. It was covered in bruises from repeated blows to his torso and Ace could feel the give in the man’s ribs even though he used his most gentle touch. He soothed the patch into place. It would deliver pain killers, antibiotics, and stimulants that would help keep him alive until they could get him to the doc. The febbie knelt beside him, tears making silver tracks down her pale cheeks, as she grimly went about opening and getting the stretcher ready to move her battered partner and, Ace noted, her hands did not shake. 

“Is he...” her voice faded to a whisper. 

Ace shook his head. “No, but he will die if we don’t get him to the doc soon.” He patted her hand as she blanched. Reaching up he pressed the button on his throat mic. ‘Lobo, we are ready to move him now. We need to hurry, he is fading fast.’ 

‘Copy that. On the way.’   
O*O  
Potshot and her surgical team were waiting for them as they brought the injured man through the door. They were roughly shoved out of the way as the nurses and orderly’s swarmed over the battered form and whisked him off into an operating room. The doctor nodded once and swept through the doors leaving the agent and the men of the Seventh staring after her. A nurse ushered Corrine into a small room to wait and Lobo followed her, pausing in the doorway. His gray eyes glittered in the dim light.   
“We are taking off,” he said quietly.   
Corinne nodded. She had expected as much.  “Thank you.”   
Lobo shrugged. “You can trust Potshot. She can help you get back to your team safely.”   
She nodded again. “All right. What are you all going to do now?”  
Lobo gave her a wolfish grin. “Survive.”  
O*O  
Fagetti paused beside Fred, and glanced around the room. “Mr. D’Agostino, will not be pleased with this development.” He shifted his attention to the assassin. “This ends now. I want you to track down these sons of slitches and kill them. No more dickin around and Fred...” He turned to look into the hitman’s eyes. “Bring me Lobo’s head on a fucking platter.”   
O*O  
Ferret started the City Master and looked into the rearview making eye contact with Lobo. “Where to boss?”   
“Back to base.” Lobo’s tone was bland, but the feral grin and glitter of his eyes, belied that.   
Falcon lifted an eyebrow. “You’re luring them in?”   
Lobo flashed bared teeth. “One way or the other we have to end this now, but I am not minded to be constantly looking over my shoulder. Are you?”   
“Hell, no.” Stud snapped. “None of us are.”   
“They know where to find us, but we have home advantage.” Ace smirked.   
“Exactly.” Lobo said.

O*O


	6. Chapter 6

“When your losing the game, change the rules.” ~ Cpl. Jake Jensen, UCAS Army decker. 

Jase stood in the shadows outside Revenge’s apartment and pulled his coat closer. The rain that had started around noon dripped down the back of his neck turning his shirt into a soggy, cold, clammy source of misery. It stuck to his back and made him shiver as he stared up at the window of her bedroom and did his best not to imagine her lying in her bed entwined with the big samurai. This assignment sucked. There was just no other way to describe it. He resented the hell out of the position he and his partner had been put in and he knew that it was not going to end well no matter which way he jumped. He kicked at a can that had fallen from the overflowing dumpster he half hid behind, gagging a bit at the stench emanating from the pile of trash at the base. The rain had done nothing to settle the smell, if anything it simply added to it by hydrating the organic material and speeding up the decomp. He shifted restlessly. If she didn’t get back soon he was going to give up and head back to his safehouse and call it an unproductive day. He had started down the alleyway toward his bike when he noticed a car pull up and an unwelcome but familiar man step out. Jase slid into the shelter of a doorway and watched as one of Fagetti’s hitters sauntered up to the door of Corinne’s apartment and pull out what he could only assume was an electronic lockpick. His eyes narrowed as the man opened her door and slipped inside. Making a quick decision he crossed the street and followed him. He pulled his pistol and eased through the door moving as silently as possible. Michael shouldn’t be anywhere near either of their flops. He shouldn’t even know where Corrine lived and that was a real worry. He peeked around the corner into the living room and spotted Michael planting a bug under the kitchen counter. With a vicious grin he retreated and headed back to his hiding spot in the alleyway. Once Revenge got back they could sweep the place and clear out all the listening devices, after they had a staged conversation that should placate the paranoid hit man.  
* O *  
The sound of the backhanded slap echoed in the barren room. Corinne’s lip spilt as Fagetti’s ring crushed it against her teeth. Her head snapped to the side with the force of the blow and she fell to her knees in shock.  
“Perhaps that will give him the incentive to spend more time with you,” Fagetti looked down at Corinne with a sneer.  
She crouched at the hit man’s feet, her eyes narrowed and doing her best to conceal her hatred for the man. Wincing at the sting, she licked her lip tasting the iron tang of blood. She snarled silently as she surged to her feet and fisted her hands fighting the urge to retaliate. It would do nothing, but get her killed so she locked her feelings down and bowed her head in mock submission. Spinning on her heels she left the room without a word.  
Once in her car and heading back home she set the auto pilot and angled the mirror down to asses the damage to her face. While not vain in the traditional sense of the word, her looks were vital to her job, just one more asset in her skill set. It was a way to control the men around her and she used that gift ruthlessly. It was necessary in her line of work. The men around her were intimidated by her beauty and perceived strength and it kept them at a distance, kept her safe. Fagetti had just put a big fat target on her back with one well placed backhand by displaying for all to see that she was vulnerable. She frowned at the bruise starting to form and the puffiness of her lip. Goddess damned son of a slitch was gonna pay for this she swore. But beyond the difficulties this created for her jobwise, what really had her worried was her partner’s inevitable reaction. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jase was going to go ballistic when he saw the damage. She had to figure out a way to spin this so he wouldn’t go all white knight on her and storm off to the castle to avenge her honor. Her partner was such a throwback sometimes. She winced at the sting when her smile caused the wound on her mouth to reopen.  
The traffic heading out of the downtown area was heavy and slow going with the rain so it took her almost an hour to get back to her safehouse in Englewood. The border guard looked at her curiously as she went through the checkpoint, even going so far as to ask her if she was ok. He didn’t seem to quite believe her when she assured him she was fine but he allowed her through with a nod after checking her ID. She wasn’t worried about being flagged. Her fake ID was the best that could be had and the forgery was flawless. The CAS sector of Denver had not been her first choice for the location of a bolt hole, but she couldn’t afford to stand out too much. She would be so relieved when this assignment was over and she could get back to her beautiful condo with all the amenities a woman could hope and long for. Dearest goddess she missed home with an ache so intense it took her breath away, but as nice as it was having her things around her, she missed her cat, Luke, the most. Especially on days like this when he would curl up in her lap and soothe her with his gentle purr. Luke, however, was currently with her brother, Keiran.and his family, no doubt eating him out of house and home and entertaining her nieces and nephews with his antics. In the meantime she made the best of a bad situation and decorated the little apartment she had rented as part of her cover with discount pieces and flea market finds. She was pleased with the results but it wasn't the same as being home. She pulled into her parking space and looked up at her windows with a sigh. As she climbed out of the car she heard a piercing whistle and looked over to see her partner in the alley watching her intently. She frowned and glanced around to make sure that the street was clear and that there were no watchers before she crossed the road, dodging oily puddles, to join him in the shadows of the building.  
“What are you doing in the alley?” she asked keeping her voice low. If he was hiding out here, she knew there had to be a good reason.  
“What the fuck?” He reached out a gentle hand, that belied the fierce expression on his face, and cupped her cheek. “Who did this?”  
“It’s nothing.”  
“Nothing?” He brushed aside her attempt to pass it off. “Don’t give me that shit Corinne! Now, who the fuck hit you?” Who am I going to kill? his furious tone said.  
"Look Jase, I had to make Spaghetti think he could push me around... you want this to look good don't you?” She laughed lightly, knowing even as she did that he wasn’t going to be convinced by her flippant explanation.  
“Don’t!” He pulled her into a hug and held on as if he thought she would disappear before his eyes.  
She stiffened as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. They were friends, close friends, and even though they had hugged before, this felt different and she was unsure how to respond. Every fiber of her being wanted to melt into his warm embrace and chase away the fear that had been riding her shoulder like a specter ever since the hit man had backhanded her. They stood there for what felt like hours as the rain changed from a light drizzle back to a downpour, until she shivered violently bringing them both back to reality. Her hair slipped out of the twist and hung down dripping water down the back of her neck in a steady stream and suddenly all she wanted was a hot shower. “Come on.” she murmured against his chest. “Let’s go upstairs and get cleaned up. Then we can eat and talk.”  
“Wait, he croaked out. “Michael was here earlier. He broke into your place and planted at least one bug. Maybe more. I followed him and saw him do it. That’s why I waited. Come with me, we can go to my flop, and then later we can come back, run the bug sweeper and clear the place out.”  
“Shit!” She grimaced at the mess her clothes had become standing so long in a downpour. The leather of her skirt would be ruined if she didn’t take care and the garment had cost her a pretty penny. “All right, but I need to change first and take care of this.” She waved her hand over her clothes. “Come on up and at least get warm while I grab what I need.”  
She led the way to her apartment and let him go first, knowing he would want to sweep through and make sure it was clear. Sure enough he stalked into her living room and studied the area with narrowed eyes. He motioned for her to join him and gestured to her room.  
‘Hurry’ he subvocalised. ‘I don’t want to stay here any longer than we have to.’  
She nodded and quickly went to her room closing the door quietly behind her. Wiggling out of her sopping wet clothes she carefully hung the skirt in the shower stall and made a note to take it to the cleaners at first opportunity. Maybe a professional could save it. She toweled her hair dry and caught it up in a low ponytail before slipping on a button up denim shirt and a pair of well worn jeans. All told it took her less than ten minutes and they were out the door again and heading for Jase’s safehouse.  
She eyed the dilapidated house he pulled up to with trepidation. The place looked like a stiff breeze could knock it flat. She hadn’t realized his finances where in such bad shape if he had been forced to resort to a place like this. Hell, her place wasn’t in the nicest sector of Treaty City, but even her roaches would be ashamed to be caught dead here. Her stipend for expenses was higher than his, she knew that for a fact, but that was because of her cover. The woman she was had a certain level of lifestyle she had to maintain while his cover was that of a low level mobster, only part way up the food chain. This however, was just so far below acceptable that she had no words to describe it. She wrinkled her nose in disgust at the surrounding neighborhood. He pulled around back and parked his bike in a detached garage and motioned for her to park behind him.  
Jase hid his grin at his partner’s obvious disdain for his bolt hole. And that was quite alright by him. He wanted anyone seeing it to discount it. So, far from being displeased, he was actually glad to see her reaction. That, and he knew she would change her tune once she got inside. He found he was anticipating showing her his house. She would be the first to ever see it, other than his brothers and they really didn’t count, since they helped him design and build the place up from the burnt out wreck he had gotten for a pittance, to a safe and comfortable home. Granted it went against all the unwritten rules and protocols to take anyone to a refuge like this. But it felt right to bring her here and he trusted his gut. In all his years it had only steered him wrong once and that was more because he had ignored the warnings and thought with his heart instead of his head. Of course Justin, his twin, would say he had been thinking with his dick, but what the fuck did he know? He waited until Corinne stepped out of her car and then led her in the back door. They paused in the mud room to shake off the raindrops and then he opened the main door and let her in.  
Whatever she had been expecting when she stepped into his house this was not it. The room spread out into a large open area with high ceilings. Along the left wall was an overstuffed dark brown couch with a blue, tan and rust throw draped casually across the back. In front of the couch a low mahogany coffee table sat on sturdy legs on top of a deep cream sheepskin rug, that would, she was sure, feel absolutely sinful in bare feet. A matching recliner was placed at an angle to the couch, with a wrought iron floor lamp just behind it. The far wall was completely dominated by a fireplace with a rustic mantel and a flag stone hearth. The walls had been painted a subdued restful green with darker green trim. Off to her right was a long wraparound bar that overlooked a small kitchen and in the corner, next to the doorway to the kitchen, sat a tiny table with two chairs. The over all effect was one of rustic masculinity and comfort. She stepped forward her heels clicking against the golden oak hardwood floor. She turned to see him watching her with something she couldn’t quite identify in his intense blue eyes. She unaccountably blushed, feeling the tips of her ears grow hot. And then her stomach flipped as he gave her a slow sweet smile.  
Jase smiled and walked past her into his living room. “Come on in and make yourself at home. Bathroom is through there,” he pointed to a doorway just past the couch. “The guest room is down the hall and up the stairs on the right.” He walked into the kitchen, opened the freezer and pulled out a coldpac. “Here.” He held it out to her as he entered the room again. “For your face.”  
Having gotten her blush under control, she accepted the pac and set it down on the table while she shrugged out of her armored jacket. “Thank you. This is lovely, Jase.” She waved a hand to indicate the room. She picked up the pac and held it to her cheek flinching at the icy cold. Her lip throbbed for a moment as her heart rate increased. She wandered over to the couch and sank down with a heartfelt sigh of relief as it cradled her aching body.  
If anything his smile just got brighter. “Thank you,” he said. “I hoped you would like it.” He studied the damage to her face from the livid bruise to the split lip. His eyes narrowed as a deep seated rage built at the thought of Fagetti daring to lay a hand on his woman... er partner.  
“Jase, stop growling. I’m fine.” She shot him an exasperated look. Really, men could be so... overbearing sometimes. She kicked off her shoes and buried her toes in that incredible rug. She let out a little moan of appreciation and sensual pleasure as her eyes drifted shut.  
Jase’s breath caught at the look of pure ecstasy on her face as she dug her feet into the sheepskin. He froze in place staring at her as she moaned in pleasure. He was supremely glad she could not see the thoughts that flashed through his mind in that moment. She would either slap him or shoot him and he wasn’t really sure which he deserved more.  
She opened her eyes to see Jase gazing at her with a look of hunger that she had never thought to see in his extraordinary blue eyes. It was a look she had seen in the eyes of many men. Men that wanted to posses her body, her money or just claim her as a trophy that proved their prowess to the world, but this was different, this was Jase and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it wasn’t her looks, her wealth, or anything she possessed that he wanted. It was just her, plain, simple and oh so right... She could hear that voice in the back of her head screeching that this was a disaster in the making. That she had to turn back, right the fuck now, before she was lost beyond all redemption. Before she pursued him right over a fucking cliff to be dashed onto the sharp rocks at the bottom. She watched in mute fascination as he leaned toward her. Her eyes tracked his lips as they moved closer and closer and her eyes drifted shut as a gentle kiss brushed against hers. She sighed as the warmth of his mouth chased away the cold. The kiss was soft, barely there as he carefully avoided hurting her. His hand rose to cup her cheek, and she leaned into it. “Jase...” her voice was low and soft as she breathed out his name.  
He could hear the longing in her voice as she whispered. It echoed his own. Without even stopping to think about the utter mess he was about to create, he rose to his feet and tugged her hand. He smiled as she rose and flowed into his arms. He held her tight against his chest tucking her under his chin. He breathed in the scent of her, sweet and woodsy. Felt the silk of her hair against his face and the warmth of her body pressed to his, soft where he was hard, her curves fitting against his angles in perfect harmony. He ran his hands along her back, comforting and soothing her tremors as she trembled in his embrace. Sliding down he cupped her ass pulling her close so she could feel his need and desire for her. She sighed again and he knew she was his, for this night if never again. He released her, only keeping contact with her hand, and led her into the hall and up the stairs to his room. He stopped unsure if he was doing the right thing, Wondering if it was what she wanted. She followed him and stopped beside his bed. Turning she gave him a heated glance that seared him right down to the bone. At that moment in time he would have followed her anywhere, even to the very gates of hell.  
She watched him as he stopped at the foot of his bed. In his eyes she could read the question. Was she sure? She answered him with a look filled with all the passion in her heart. She might regret it tomorrow, but tonight she craved the comfort of a man who wanted her not for what she could give him or what she represented but just for herself. One night... spent in his arms. She could do that. Just one night to feel loved for herself. Surely that would be enough. 

With a low groan of relief he pulled her close and brushed her lips, cheeks, and eyes with gentle whispers of kisses. He buried his face in her neck and breathed in her perfume. He whispered her name as he reached up and pulled the tie from her hair running his fingers through damp curls that wrapped around his fingers like an embrace. Then he sank down on the mattress pulling her onto his lap as he continued to coax sighs of pleasure from her. His hands crept up under her shirt as he caressed her soft skin and the tips of his callused fingers barely brushed the lower band of her bra. She shivered against him and suddenly he was impatient to feel her bare skin against his own. She chuckled, low and sensual, as his fingers fumbled trying to undo her buttons.The sound sent a shiver down his spine and with a muffled curse he pulled, grinning as buttons snapped and shot across the room. Then he pulled his own shirt up and off and tossed it, not giving a damn where it ended up, then he pulled her down to rest on his chest and kissed her with all the pent up longing he had felt since the first day he had met her. He rolled taking her with him until he lay nestled in the v of her legs, covering her with his body. He reached over and snapped off the light and preceded to show her exactly how he felt.  
* O *

The smell of Fagetti's rich imported coffee was filling the room as it percolated in his expensive French Press. The hit man paced as he waited for it to finish, his obvious irritation bleeding over, making his movements sharp and impatient. At the best of times Harold was not a morning person and this debacle was not by any stretch of the imagination the best of times. More like a clusterfuck in the making. Why couldn’t those irritating men of the Seventh just die? It was like something was watching over them allowing them to slip the noose over and over again. He ground his teeth in frustration. And now that useless slitch Revenge had failed to take out Stud when he told her to. He was surrounded by idiots who couldn’t find their way out of a wet paper bag!  
Fred idly cleaned his fingernails with a tiny pocket knife, while he watched Fagetti pace the room. “I take it she did not return to her apartment?”  
“No, she did not.” The hit man growled. He turned to the assassin. “There is some question as to her loyalty. She has been seen talking to a man who we know is a LEO. Take her out.”  
“Are you sure you want to do that just yet? After all, she has not yet fulfilled her assignment. We could just keep an eye on her until her target is dead, then kill her.” He cocked his head to the side as he contemplated the best way to make the hit. Jase, one of Fagetti’s hitters, had taken a shine to the girl and seemed to always be hanging around her. He snorted. The man had about as much chance getting into the slitch’s pants as a troll did, but he could be a problem if he was around when the time came for her life to end. Ah well, if he got in the way, Harold could just hire his replacement as well.  
“Yes, I’m sure. She has become a liability. We can not take the risk of her turning on us.” Harold said. “We will find another way to take out her target.”  
“As you wish.” Fred put away his knife. “I did warn you about her,” he said mildly as he stood. He shot Fagetti a smirk as he walked out of the room.  
* O *  
Corrine awoke feeling like she was trapped in a cocoon of blankets. She wasn’t sure why exactly she couldn’t move until her pillow moved under her cheek and then like a flood memory returned and she groaned. ‘What the fuck have I done?’ was the thought foremost in her mind. She sat up and looked at her partner. He looked so much younger while he was sleeping. His hair was mussed, falling over his eyes and the lines of stress were smoothed out leaving his face relaxed and at peace. She reached out and gently brushed his bangs back, freezing as he stirred. Pulling back she waited until he settled down and then carefully slipped out of bed. She pulled on her clothes and crept out the door and padded down the stairs in her bare feet. The sun warmed hardwood floor felt good under her toes as she crossed the living room. She stepped into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of juice chugging it down quickly. Then she rinsed the glass and left it in the sink. Casting one last glance around she sat down and put her shoes on then slipped out the door locking it behind her. He would probably be upset when he woke to find her gone but she just couldn’t face him first thing this morning. She had to think first. Had to decide if this changed everything and if she could continue to work with him. She had to be able to do her job after all and sometimes that meant sleeping with other men.  
* O *  
Corinne pulled into the parking lot of Underhill and made her way into the cafe. This early in the morning there wasn’t a wait and the host led her over the small bridge and around a tree, seating her in a nook in the back corner. She settled in her chair and listened to the gentle sound of the brook that ran through the middle of the room. The dim blue lights over each table and the fairy lights twinkling in the rafters like stars added a mysterious ambiance to the restaurant. The floor was carpeted by grass and moss adding a woodsy scent to the rich smells coming from the kitchen. An elven waiter hurried up to the table and placed a basket of bread and whipped butter on the table. She placed her order and sat back to relax with a cup of coffee while she thought.  
This... thing with Jase was a real worry. How he reacted, would determine whether she was going to have to get a new partner. She didn’t want to. He was good, really good at his job and she had never felt safer in the field than when she knew he was out there backing her up. But she of all people knew that sex had a way of making even the most level headed of people react in ways they never would have ordinarily. And he had never been what she would call level headed where she was concerned. Possessive, over protective, and irrational maybe. Ok, if she was completely honest with herself she was the same way with him... but that was different. It wasn’t like she was jealous when he went out with women. Although his taste in ladies could be better. It was just that she was concerned for his safety. She snorted delicately. Right! Tell yourself another one, Corinne. Oh Goddess! Shit... Fine! Jealous? How about the green eyed rage monster screaming in the back of her head? How’s that for honest? The truth was she wanted to scratch the eyes out of any woman who looked at her partner. She dropped her face into her palm in frustration. This was so not good. She never should have given in and now it was all going to be fucked up and it was all her fault.  
The waiter returned interrupting her train of thought as he refilled her coffee and placed her order on the table. She ate slowly wanting to delay her return to her apartment and real life. They still had to go through the place and clear out any bugs left by Fagetti’s man. That was the problem she needed to be focused on. Not this... thing with Jase. That and how to get the real job done. Gathering enough to take down the Don without getting killed in the process. And then there was the whole assignment with Buck. She fingered the bruise on her face. She had taken too long to complete the assignment and Fagetti was not going to accept any more excuses as to why she hadn’t taken the samurai out yet. Maybe if instead of killing him, she just captured and contained him and told Fagetti he was dead. She might be able to convince him. With help. Which brought her right back to her partner. She couldn’t do this alone and until they were out the other side they were going to have to put aside what had happened between them and focus on the job. Afterward they could work it out. Nodding sharply to herself she paid her tab and headed home.  
* O *  
Fred looked around the small apartment. Revenge had good taste in decor. It wasn’t overly feminine like some women. He couldn’t stand all the frilly stuff some females seemed to delight in. The recliner was a comfortable place to wait for her so he stretched out. He had been waiting almost two hours when he heard the sound of a car door slamming shut and footsteps coming up to the door. He stood and stretched, preparing himself for the coming fight. He didn’t delude himself that she would go easily. He moved so that he would not be seen as she came through the door. No need to give a warning after all. He grinned sharply in anticipation. The door swung open and she stepped through into the entryway and looked around. Really it was a shame she had failed, and he regretted that such beauty had to be sacrificed.  
As she stepped through her door, the hair on the back of her neck rose. She stopped in her tracks and looked around. Something was off, something that was out of place. There was a presence here in what should have been an empty room. Then she noticed the recliner had been moved. Just a hairs breath out of place but that was enough. She turned and made a run for the door thanking the Goddess that they had seen fit to give her wired reflexes. She felt the surge of strength and speed as they kicked in, giving her that extra boost that allowed her to dodge the bullet that slammed into the doorjamb beside her face. She ducked and threw herself through the door slamming it shut behind her. The door automatically locked when closed so that would give her precious seconds when whoever was in her home had to open it. She jumped the stairs and landed badly, barely holding back a screech as her ankle turned under her. Limping as she ran she headed toward her car, only to turn away at the sight of one of Fagetti’s hitters leaning against it waiting for her. She headed to the alleyway across the street where the night before she had stood in the pouring rain wrapped in her partner’s embrace. She wished with all her heart that he was with her now and just hoped that her decision to leave him this morning wouldn’t be the one that got her killed. As she slipped into the alleyway she heard the door opening behind her and she ducked into the shadow of the dumpster to hide. Cut off from her vehicle and hurting she held her breath as Fred stepped out onto the landing and looked around for her. He called to the man by her car, his words lost in the rush of her breath and the pounding of her heart. The hitter shook his head and Fred frowned before stepping back into her apartment and shutting the door behind him.  
* O *  
Jase stewed outside Fagetti’s office while he spoke with the Don. He had awakened that morning to find Corinne’s already gone, the only evidence that she had ever been there the elusive scent of her perfume lingering in his bed and a single glass in the kitchen sink. He wasn’t sure what had been running through her mind to make her leave before he even woke up but he felt he had a pretty good idea, but right then was not the time to be worrying about the change in their relationship. He crept up and listened to the muffled conversation he heard through the crack under the door. When he heard ‘Spaghetti’, he suppressed a snicker as Corinne’s nickname for the hit man came to mind, mention Revenge and Fred in the same sentence his amusement abruptly fled and he knew it was time to get out. He didn’t hesitate, simply spun on his heels and silently slipped out of the office. As soon as he was clear of the building he headed for his bike and pulled out his pocket secretary to call Corinne. It went straight to her voice mail. “Corinne, we’ve been made. Get to my bolt hole and wait for me. I will get there as soon as I can. Watch your back.” ~ End Trans...  
The next call he made was to their handler. “Sackett. 04291. We have been made, request immediate extraction.” He fumed when the man was silent for a minute.

“Acknowledged, Agent Sackett. Get to a safe house and await further orders.” The man’s voice was calm and even. 

“Frag that. My partner is out there in the wind!” he snarled. “There is no way I am letting her get whacked cause you idiots sent Noran in and compromised us. This is on you Galan! Now, shut the fuck up and work on getting us out of here while I go find her. I will contact you again when we are safe and you damn well better have that set up or I swear, by all that is holy, heads are gonna fucking roll.”~ End Trans. He secured his pad, pulled his helmet on and mounted his bike. First stop was Corinne’s place, after that? Well that depended on the situation now didn’t it? He just hoped he could get to her before Fred did. 

* O *

Jase watched from the shadows as Fred’s wet team crawled over Corinne’s neighborhood looking for her. Her car was sitting outside her apartment watched over by Michael. That put her on foot, which limited her range. Fred was screaming at one of the men for some imagined mistake. The assassin was never what Jase called stable at the best of times, but it appeared that now he was slipping even further over the sanity line. So far she had managed to evade them but how much longer could she stay ahead and why the frag hadn’t she contacted him? He drew deeper into the room where he had taken refuge, when one of the team looked his way. It was unlikely that anyone would see him up here, but why take chances? He watched for another hour until it was clear that Corinne had either escaped or gone to ground. Either way Fred wasn’t going to find her here. He slipped out the back and headed down the stairs. He was sure she would do her best to get back to his safe house, and thanked God he had ignored the protocol that warned against telling anyone, even your partner, about your personal bolt hole. At least now she knew a safe place to run to. But why the frag hadn’t she called? Slipping out the back door he turned the corner and walked into a fist. Jase stumbled back coming to an abrupt halt against a solid wall of muscle. His arm was almost wrenched out of the socket as Dino, Fagetti’s pet troll, grabbed his wrist and introduced it to his shoulder blade. Jase couldn’t hold back the cry of pain as Dino and his pal, Nico, the owner of the fist, frog marched him back around the corner toward Corinne’s apartment. 

* O *

ICE ~ Intrusion Counter Measures – programs designed to attack and/ or trace intruding deckers. Black ICE- programs that set up lethal feedback in a decker’s brain- designed to kill.  
DSN~ data storage node  
SAN ~ system access node  
A.M.F.~ Good-bye, typically derogatory. From the acronym, "Adios, Mother-Fragger." 

 

Ch. 

“Revenge? Nah I’m too damn lazy. I’m just gonna sit back and let karma fuck you up.” ~ Stud - Street Sammy

 

Corinne huddled in the drain pipe and silently cursed as yet another of Fred’s hounds stalked by looking for her. She wiggled further back holding her breath as the stench of sewer surrounded her. She fought desperately to avoid vomiting, but at last lost both the battle and her lunch, as a reeking wave washed over her feet and the oily sewage made her skin crawl.  
At last the hitter seemed satisfied that she wasn’t in the vicinity and moved on. She breathed a sigh of relief and was preparing to withdraw when she caught sight of Dino and Nico dragging Jase between them. They had his arm wrenched up and even from a distance she could tell he was in pain. The two men threw Jase to the ground at Fred’s feet. The assassin leaned down and grabbed her partner by the hair and pulled him up so that they were nose to nose. He pressed his gun under Jase’s chin and Corinne drew in a horrified breath, sure she was about to witness her partner’s murder. “Jase!”  
Jase gagged and gasped for breath as the gun pressed against his windpipe. He didn’t dare answer Corrine until Fred turned away for a moment. “’Rinne, run! Don’t call in. Compromised. I lo...” He fell silent as Fred backhanded him across the face with the pistol, sagging in Dino’s grip.  
Corrine gritted her teeth until her jaw ached as they dragged Jase to the car and dumped him into the trunk. She held her position and identified every person as they climbed into their vehicles and left taking careful note as to which direction they turned as they left her narrow line of sight.  
Somehow she had to rescue Jase. How she was going to do that she had no clue but one way or another she was going to get him back, no other outcome was acceptable! ‘Hang on Jase. I’m coming!’ Without her purse, which held her cred stick and pocket secretary, and her vehicle, she was cut off from any support, afoot, and on her own with limited options. One by one she considered those options; She could try and make it to Jase’s bolt hole, but it was to far to walk, and with no money she couldn’t get a cab or even public transportation. Without her pocket secretary, she had no way to contact anyone to be picked up. Jase said their handler was compromised, so calling in for an extraction would just send up a big flag saying ‘Come and get me,Fred’. And, to top off already her shitty day, even her secondary bolt hole was being watched. How they ever found it was a mystery but when she found out, she had the feeling that someone was going to die. There was one option she didn’t really want to take, but after considerable consideration she didn’t see that she had much choice. She could try and make a run to the Seventh and see if they would give her sanctuary. It was a long shot. After all, other than Stud, none of them had even met her and they had no reason to trust her. But he at least was a good man, and she thought that maybe he would at the very least allow her to contact...someone. Of course without her badge to verify her story he was going to have to take her word for it, and getting to him in the first place was not going to be any picnic. Little say her just showing up at his safehouse. That could quite frankly get her killed as fast as stepping out for Fred to find her. But she was out of ideas, and no matter which way she jumped was risky. At least with Stud she stood a chance at getting out alive and if he did kill her it would be fast. With Fred she didn’t stand a snowballs chance in hell of surviving and her death would be slow and as painful as he could make it. Decision made she crawled deeper into the sewer until she reached the main line and followed it out of her neighborhood.  
What followed was a nightmare as she made her way on foot out of her zone and into Purgatorio. After hours spent dodging go gangs and being chased by a couple of ghouls intent on eating her, she finally made it to Stud’s safe house. She was bedraggled, sore, and pissed as hell when she knocked on the door to the garage. She stepped back and looked up at the camera, making sure they got a good look at her face. A mechanical voice crackled over the small speaker beside the vid feed. “Who are you and what’d ya want?” the voice snapped.  
She bowed her head for a second, thankful to find someone at home. “Special Agent Corinne Carnesîr, UCAS FBI. I am in trouble. I need to speak to Stud, please.” There was a wait of several moments before the speaker crackled to life again.  
“Stand by. On your knees, hands laced behind your head.”  
She slowly sank down on her knees, following instructions and said a quick prayer that she had made the right decision.  
It was a couple of tense minutes while she waited, but at last the garage door began to rise. Five men, stood spread out, various weapons pointed at her, and if the situation wasn’t so charged with tension she would have giggled that they went through all of this just for her. She was able to identify them all from the holos Fagetti had passed around all those months ago when this whole debacle had started. From his place in the rafters Falcon aimed a Draganov Sniper rifle at her. She knew the man was a deadly shot. One twitch and he could put a bullet through her brain faster than she could think. Lobo, their leader was standing off to the right, his Predator held unwaveringly on her. Ace, the shaman, was standing behind him studying her with an appraising eye, but unlike most men, there was nothing lustful in that steady gaze. Just a sense of being weighed and measured. Their mage Prophet was on the other side of the garage half hidden behind a vehicle. The scent of brimstone gave away the presence of his fire elementals. And standing in the middle was Stud watching her with narrowed eyes. “Federal Agent? I thought you said you were in marketing?” he said mildly.  
“I am undercover. And I need your help.” She looked up at him bleakly. “My partner has been captured, we have been compromised, and I have a hit on my head. I know you have no reason to trust me but can we at least get off the street? Then I will answer whatever questions I can.”  
“She believes what she says, Lobo.” The shaman spoke up.  
The sammy nodded in acknowledgement. “Get up and move in here slowly.” She rose to her feet taking care to keep her hands on her head. Then took a few stumbling steps forward until she was inside. The door slammed down behind her which made her twitch and have to stifle an undignified squeak.  
As the men moved to cover her the shaman’s nose wrinkled. “Good Lord, woman. First things first. Into a shower with you. Go stand over there and let Stud hose you off. I will get you a towel and some clean clothes while we wash yours.” He bustled off, disappearing through a door in the back of the garage.  
Stud gestured toward the far side of the room where she could see a hose and a drain set in the plascrete floor.  
She turned to look at him incredulously. “He was serious?”  
Stud smirked at her. “Completely. And since he does most of the cleaning around here, I don’t suggest you argue with him. Don’t worry sweetheart. No one is gonna hurt you, unless you give us a good reason.”  
Reluctantly, she walked over and slowly started to remove her shoes, setting them aside to be cleaned. She glanced up in the rafters and saw the sniper, Falcon grinning down at her.  
Raising an eloquent eyebrow, she disdainfully turned her back, offended dignity clearly displayed in her body language.  
Falcon chuckled and swung down dropping lightly to his feet. He sauntered over to Lobo and leaned over to whisper something before leaving with Prophet by the same door the shaman had. Prophet stepped back through a moment later with a fluffy towel, soap, shampoo and a brush. He handed them to Stud and left without a word. Lobo nodded to Stud and followed his teammates.  
“There,” the samurai said with a twinkle in his eyes. “I trust that you don’t expect us to leave you alone.”  
She chocked down unexpected tears, waiting a beat until she could get her voice under control. “No, I know better than to expect privacy.” She unbuttoned her shirt allowing it to fall to the floor and wiggled out of her jeans. She left her underwear on and turned to face him with a defiant glare.  
He grinned and hit her with a stream of cold water that made her yelp in outrage. 

Once she was cleaned up enough to be deemed worthy of stepping into their home they let her in, shivering and hair dripping, looking, she felt, like a drowned devil rat. It made her grumpy to be seen in such a state and it occurred to her that they did it on purpose to put her off her game. Fair enough, she deserved it given that she had lied to Stud. And if the price she paid for a safe haven was a loss of dignity it was, all things considered, a small fee to pay.  
Stud led her down a long hall to a surprisingly large living area that was actually more tastefully decorated then she would have given them credit for. The rest of the team was waiting for them and spread out around the room. Falcon was lounging on one of the couches his long legs thrown over the arm watching a game on the trid. As she walked up he switched the set off and sat up. Stud indicated a comfortable looking seat facing the couches and sat down next to the sniper. The others joined them surrounding her with five pairs of eyes watching her intensely. She felt like she was surrounded by a wolf pack and she was a tender doe. She cleared her throat nervously. Dear Goddess, what was it about these men? She had worked with alpha males for years and had never felt this off balance in her life.  
Lobo stared at her with something she couldn’t quite describe in his greyish green eyes. “You wanna start at the beginning?”  
She nodded slowly. “My name is Corinne, I’m a UCAS FBI agent assigned undercover with my partner to gather evidence to take down the D’Agostino cartel.” She paused as the men stiffened.  
“So meeting me wasn’t just a coincidence?” Stud said fiercely.  
She bowed her head. “No, it was not. I was tapped for the wet team who got the hit on you all. Fagetti told me to get close to you and take you out.”  
“Shit, woman! What the hell is this? Fuck with Stud month or something...” Stud stopped his tirade abruptly when Prophet laid a hand on his shoulder.  
“Let the lady talk, Stud,” the mage said calmly.  
“You don’t think I actually like doing this do you! It’s my fucking job! My and my partner’s lives are on the line. If I don’t obey orders we get dead, damn it. I didn’t know you, Stud. It is nothing personal, but all you were was a name and a fucking holo pic!” She stared at him furious and defensive. “For what it’s worth I never had any intention of going through with it. But I had to make it look good, because as long as they thought I was going to take you out they left you alone!”  
Buck opened his mouth to retort only to snap it shut again at Lobo’s quiet command. “Enough.” (change order to cause then effect ) All eyes turned to the samurai as he sat forward intently studying Corrine. “Tell us about your partner.” 

* O *  
An annoying drip roused Jase to agony. He viewed the dingy room through slitted eyelids, both eyes swollen to the point he could barely see. His nose ached and blood sluggishly ran down past his lips and dripped off his chin to spatter on the ground below. He hung from a hook high on the wall and his wrists burned from the strain as the cuffs dug into his abraded flesh. He tried to straighten up but yelped as his left knee gave out, unable to support his weight. He panted, his breath harsh and loud in the silence of the room as he tried to get the pain under control. Panic set in as his vision grayed and something in his chest grated as he struggled to get a deep breath. On the verge of passing out again, stray thoughts ran through his mind, memories of happy times with his brothers, the smell and taste of Corrine on his tongue. No! He stopped his thought there. He mustn’t think of her. A mage with the right spell might coax his thoughts to the surface like a sprinkle of food on a pond drew fish. Fred had asked about her, where she would go and what she would do. Jase had no idea but the master assassin hadn’t believed him and the beating had continued until Jase passed out. He knew it was just a matter of time before they came back and the questions resumed. In despair he looked around the room where he would die. It was bare of anything but the hook on the wall, a single chair, and a car battery. The rust red and black stains of old blood spattered the floor in a macabre design and the sharp ozone stench of piss and pain permeated the walls. Jase gagged at the copper penny and ammonia taste on the back of his tongue. His only solace was she had gotten away and Fred was pissed. He grinned sharply. He knew rescue wasn’t going to happen. He would die here, slowly and in agony. But as long as she was safe, he would endure until the end... and then he could rest. 

* O *  
Corrine brushed her hair back and stared into the mirror. The long hours spent debriefing the Seventh and planning to rescue her partner had left dark circles under her bloodshot eyes. She looked like hell and felt worse. She methodically washed her hands, holding her emotions at bay with gritted teeth. She would not break down in front of these men. She knew what she must do, silently told the woman in the mirror to put aside feelings and weakness, to stop the fucking tears that leaked steadily down the side of her nose and dripped into the corners of her mouth. She licked her lips tasting salt and brutally scrubbed at her traitorous eyes, hoping the cold water would wash away the evidence before she had to face her reluctant allies. She knew they would use any excuse to leave her behind when they went after Fagetti, but she also knew that while they would not be gunning for Jase, neither would they go out of their way to see he wasn’t collateral damage. It was up to her to ensure that didn’t happen. 

* O *

Lobo tossed Corinne a spare set of body armor. She caught it with a nod of thanks, stripped to bra and panties and slipped it on. It was a little too tight around the chest and a little too loose around the waist but any body armor was better than none. She put on her jeans and shirt and sat down to lace up a spare set of combat boots Ferret lent her. Her ankle throbbed as she pulled the laces tight forcing a groan out past gritted teeth. 

Ace glanced over at the agent and frowned at the fleeting grimace of pain that crossed her face. He dropped his jacket on the bench and crossed the room to squat beside her. “You are injured.” 

It wasn’t a question, so she simply nodded. “Twisted my ankle getting away from Fred.” 

He reached out and rested his hand on her calf. He lifted a sardonic eyebrow when she flinched at his touch. “Just a bit of healing is all, Miss Carnesîr.” His fingers suddenly glowed a brilliant green. 

As the light faded from his hands, the pain drained away until there was barely a twinge when she set her foot down. “Thank you.” 

He nodded gravely. “It is nothing I assure you.” He rose and continued with his preparations leaving her to her thoughts. 

O * O

JD parked the city master down the block from the restaurant. He jacked out and turned his seat to face the back. 

“Ferret, send out your spy drones and get us a head count on guards. Ace, you get started on the invisibility. Let’s try and do this as subtle as we can. And Ace, no blowing up the block this time.” Chris shot the shaman a grin. 

Ezra rolled his eyes as he started casting.

O * O  
Michael blinked sleepily at the monitors. Of all the shifts he had to work the early morning hours were the worst. Suddenly awake he shuddered as the camera cycled through to the holding cell and the image of the battered man hanging from his wrists. His gut clenched as he scanned the damage Fred had done to him. Fagetti wasn’t the easiest man to work for but to torture one of his own men because of a tentative connection with one of the others was frankly crossing a line that should never be crossed. There was no evidence at all that Jase had betrayed them and Michael felt sick at what they had done to the man. Frag! It could have been any one of them strung up in that room and he wouldn’t wish Fred on his worst enemy. What kind of future was there in the family business if this was how it was going to be? Family, Mr. D’Agostino had always said, was about loyalty, but where was the loyalty in this? Shouldn’t it go both ways? With Revenge the question was simple. She had been seen talking to some cop, so he could understand the need to take her out. But with Jase it wasn’t so clear cut. So the man had a crush on the slitch, Michael snorted, which one of them could say they didn’t?  But that wasn’t a good enough reason in his book to take him and try and torture information out of him. He, like all of them, had been forced to watch while Jase was beaten and questioned and even he could tell that the poor bastard had no clue where Revenge was or how to find her. But Fagetti just wasn’t listening and Fred... Fred got off on hurting people and didn’t give a frag who it was. 

“Jase? Jase can you hear me? Goddess, Jase answer me. Please don’t be dead... JASE! “  
Jase tried to open his eyes but only achieved a bare slit. The other eye seemed to be glued shut. Probably from dried blood given the number of hits he had taken. His body shook as he slowly pushed up on his one good leg trying to ease the pressure on his wrists. Sharp zings ran down his arms and spine as if he had been hooked up to a battery. Something had woken him but the thought skittered away as his body screamed at him. He tried to draw in a deep breath only to feel his broken ribs grating against each other as he moved. Agony shot through his chest and every gasp was a struggle for air. He couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. His stomach churned and he fought desperately against the bile trying to rise in his throat. If he threw up now he wasn’t sure he would survive.  
“Jase?”  
“C...’Rinne?” He hardly dared hope that she hadn’t been captured too. He frowned as he tried to get his thoughts in order. She shouldn’t be here. Why was she here? “”Rinne? No... no, not Rinne. Not really here. Go way ... Run... ya got to get away. Fred is coming. Run Rinne, can’t lose you....”  
“Shh Jase, hang on. We are coming to get you. Just hang on.”  
Her voice faded away to the very edge of his consciousness until he wasn’t sure if it had even been real or was just an auditory hallucination. He swallowed hard and concentrated on forcing his stomach not to heave. Slowly he got everything back under control and even though he couldn’t get the deep breath he craved, he was able to get enough for the panic to subside. 

*O*

Ferret took the drone up and across the street following the power lines to conceal the small remote from any one below. He circled the building searching for a vent or opening that would allow him access to the building. 

Falcon calmly checked his ammo and gear as he watched over the decker and Prophet who was making a check on the astral plane. He pulled out the night scope and focused his attention on the front window. Behind the cheerful curtains a light shone in the window and he could just make out the forms of two men sitting at a table close to the door to the kitchen. There was no sign of anyone else. Where were the other men located in the building? Closing his eyes he brought to mind the sketch of the layout that Agent Carnesîr had made for them. If it was accurate, chances were that the bulk of the men would be in the basement where the offices were located. He turned his attention back to his teammates as Prophet stirred.  
“They have a mage.”  
Falcon raised an eyebrow. “Defenses?”  
“Air elemental on patrol on the roof.” Prophet nodded toward the building.  
“Any wards?” Falcon asked.  
“No,” Prophet shook his head at the stupidity of the opposing mage. “May not have had time or the energy to set them up yet.”  
“So...”  
“So I send my boys to keep the elemental busy and we should have a clear shot.”  
Falcon nodded. “But you can’t do a recon of the interior without alerting the mage can you?”  
Again Prophet shook his head. “Nope,” he said. “Gonna be up to Ferret to scope things out for us.”  
Falcon glanced over at the decker’s prone form. “Good enough.” 

*O*

“He’s alive!” Corrine burst out.  
Lobo turned to her. “What? How do you know that?”  
She turned a curious glance his way. “I just talked to him.... on our com.” She flinched as Lobo growled.  
“What the hell?! You broke radio silence and risked letting them know we are coming?! Of all the stupid, hair brained...” He stopped and gritted his teeth.  
Corrine flushed and dropped her gaze under the his furious glare. 

“I outta throw your ass out in the street for putting my men in danger.”  
Her head snapped up, and she glared back. “That’s not fair. He's my partner! I had to know... had to tell him to hang on. I have a job to do and you may not like us much but we are out there protecting people from the bad element.”  
“Lady”, Lobo sneered, “We are the bad element. Or hadn’t you heard that Shadowrunners are criminals.”  
Corrine met his gaze steadily. “I just wanted to make sure that we had a reason to go in. If he was dead we wouldn’t, now would we? It was a calculated risk. It’s a private channel and no one else has our frequency.”  
Ferret jacked out and pinned her to her seat with a glare that matched Chris’s for ferocity. “Frequencies can be hacked.” he stated baldly. “Lobo is right. It was a damn fool move. You are just fucking lucky it’s the middle of the night and they don’t have a decker monitoring things. I heard you and if I did then so could they.”   
Falcon leaned forward. "If they had somebody as good as you. Relax boys. The guys in the front room haven't even twitched, so I doubt anyone noticed anything." He turned to Corrine. "Looks like you got away with it... this time. But chica, you pull another stunt like that and you're out. Claro?"  
Corinne pursed her lips and then nodded in agreement. “I understand.”  
Falcon frowned at the sullen tone of her voice. “I mean it, lady. We will get yer partner out, but you came to us for help and you agreed to let Lobo run this op. That means you do what he says, when he says and only what he says, or you can fucking do this on yer own. It’s no skin off our noses if yer partner dies. Just keeps these cesters off our backs awhile.” He waited while she alternately flushed and blanched.  
Corrine looked at the ground. Damn it they were right. It had been a damn fool move and she knew it. She was just so desperate to get Jase out of Fred’s hands that she hadn’t thought it through. Finally she raised her eyes and met Falcon’s steady blue gaze. “All right. I am sorry. I won’t do it again.” She whispered. “I just...” she paused and swallowed hard. “I was just afraid he might be dead. I had to know.”  
A brief flash of compassion shone in Falcon’s eyes. “We can understand that. Now let’s get this over with.”  
Lobo gave a sharp nod and turned back to Ferret. “Well? Were you able to get that drone inside?”  
Ferret frowned. “No, damn place is locked up tighter than a nun’s chastity belt.”  
Lobo snorted. “So we go in blind.”  
“No,” Ferret shook his head. “There is a way, but I’ll need ya to keep the greebly off my back while I work. Their system is isolated but there’s a camera over the back door. If I can get to it, I can jack straight into their system and then it’s mine.” He grinned, hazel eyes twinkling as he rubbed his hands together.  
Prophet’s eyes narrowed as he smiled. “Don’t worry about the elemental, me and my boys will take care of it. “  
Ace snorted and clapped Ferret on the back. “Come on weasel, let’s get you hooked up.” 

O*O  
While Prophet made his way to the roof, Lobo led the others as they carefully inched their way around the building toward the back. They hugged the wall avoiding the cameras as they went. Once they reached the back door Ace levitated Ferret up and held him in place next to the video feed.  
Ferret hovered in midair as he reached for his tool pouch. He crossed his legs Indian style as if he was sitting on the ground, pulled out a tiny screwdriver and got to work breaking into the camera. He carefully taped each screw to his leg. Once he had the casing off he stripped the wires, hooked them up to his cyberdeck and jacked in.  
O*O  
Ferret looked down as reality flickered around him and his filter fought against that of the system. The constant flipping back and forth was so rapid his stomach lurched. Sighing he switched off his deck’s attempt to force the VR to show him the Old West and allowed the sculpted system’s to take over and dictate what the virtual world around him gave him to work with. He found himself in a long hall with a single blank door at the end. Reaching up he pulled the hat off his head and looked at it. In place of the bowler he usually wore was an old fashioned driving hat with a subtle checked pattern. The tweed jacket and vest combo and the rather high waisted pants he was wearing were not that different from his normal checked suit and suspenders, save that the collar rather than being a band, actually came to a point.. His paws were crammed into a pair of patten leather shoes that pinched instead of his beloved cowboy boots, and his whiskers twitched at the scent of hair pomade that wafted up from the inside of the hat. Damn, someone had gone all out on the reality filter for this system. But what era was this from? He looked at the door again. Set high in the door was a tiny window. He put the hat back on, setting it at a jaunty angle and strode down the hall. Reaching out he tried to open the door but as expected it was locked. His whiskers twitched again. He could try and pick the lock or... He rapped his knuckles against the wood frame in an old, old rhythm . Shave and a haircut...two bits. The window slid open and a pair of black eyes stared out at him.  
“Yeah? What’da ya want?”  
O*O  
Ferret’s fingers flew over the keyboard as he typed in commands.  
O*O

He grinned and handed a card to the bouncer through the window. “Fagetti sent me.” He held his breath hardly daring to hope that his chutzpah would get him through the door.  
The man took the card and turned it over reading the code printed on the back. With a soft click the door swung open and Ferret stepped inside. He stopped abruptly as the goon in a monkey suit put a hand against his chest.  
The bouncer pointed his Tommy gun at the floor and cocked his head considering Ferret. A scowl crossed his face. “Who did you say sent you?” 

Ferret puffed out his chest. “Fagetti. Now you gonna let me in or do you want to explain to him why I’m late for our meeting?”  
The bouncer huffed as he withdrew his hand. He waved Ferret on and turned back to the door, freezing in place beside it.  
Ferret sighed. That was close. He looked around the room. Along the back wall was a long bar and above it an intricately etched mirror with shelves above, below and to each side. Bottles filled with brilliantly colored liquids filled the shelves, each one glowing softly in the dim light. Small tables surrounded a dance floor and a tiny stage which held instrument stands for brass, percussion and in the far corner a piano. Suddenly it all made sense. A speakeasy for the mobster. Ferret snorted as he rolled his eyes. It seemed the don’s decker had a sense of humor. In the back wall was another door with a tiny window. Beyond the door he could hear a quiet murmur of voices. He made his way across the dance floor and pressed his ear against the wood.  
“Hit me.”  
“The gentleman has an ace.”  
“I’ll stand”  
“Push”  
“Hit me”  
“The gentleman has a jack”  
“Hit me.”  
“The gentleman busts.”  
“Hit me.”  
“The gentleman has a Blackjack.”  
O*O  
Michael leaned forward and tapped the camera two monitor. Damn thing had been flickering all night. He pulled out his log book and made a note to call a repair man in the morning.  
O*O  
Ferret pulled out his lockpicks and gently teased the tumblers until he was rewarded with a faint click. He grinned and put his picks away, then sauntered through the door as if he owned the joint.  
The room was dim except for a bright spot of light over the card table that highlighted the cards and chips. The table was U shaped and the dealer stood in the belly of the U. He was dressed in a white button down shirt with sleeve garters and had a green visor on his head. Five stools were evenly spaced around the outside curve of the U.  
Ferret frowned. Damn, he hated trying to figure out the imagery of a sculpted system. Most of the time it was just so damn illogical. He ran a quick analysis on the node and grinned as it identified the camera array. Outstanding, now he just had to slip into the dealers spot and take over. It wouldn’t take long to set up a loop, then they could waltz in with no one the wiser. He spotted movement out of the corner of his eye and started to turn as a black figure rose from a chair behind the door and slammed into him.  
Falling to the floor Ferret rolled under the table and looked up at his attacker. The ICE towered above him, simian face set in a permanent scowl. The gorilla’s massive knuckles dragged the ground as it stomped toward him. Reaching down he grabbed Ferret’s ankle and dragged him out into the open. The bouncer pulled the brim of  his fedora down as he dragged Ferret to his feet. He clutched Ferret's shirt in one ham sized hand, made a fist with the other, and reared back.  
Ferret reached into his pocket and pulled out a banana. He waved it in the bouncer’s face and threw it toward the back of the room.  
The gorilla turned its head and watched the banana’s flight, giving Ferret the opportunity to pull his pistols. He placed the gun barrel against the bouncer’s temple and squeezed the trigger.  
O*O  
Ace frowned as Ferret’s heart skipped a beat, smoothed out and then faltered again. He sent a trickle of healing energy through his team mate’s body and kept a close watch on his meat as he made his way through the office system and hopefully let them in.  
O*O  
The bouncer knocked the gun to the side as it went off. He turned his attention back to Ferret and pulled him closer roaring in his face, fangs bared and gleaming wetly in the light, his eyes glowing a deep crimson.  
Ferret leaned back, desperately trying to get the gun up. He braced himself as the bouncer punched out catching him in the face. Stars exploded and his eyes crossed and watered obscuring his vision for a moment. He shoved hard against the gorilla’s chest and stumbled back and his shirt ripped, leaving scraps of fabric in the bouncer’s massive hand. Now that the big ape was no longer holding him up, he lost his balance and fell scattering the players and dealer as he crashed into the table. Chips and cards went flying as the table gave way under his weight and he shuddered in pain as he hit the floor hard. Ferret struggled to raise his firearm as the gorilla lumbered toward him, looming larger with every thunderous step. Ferret’s heart pounded in his chest as he got his pistol on target and pulled the trigger, pumping round after round into the bouncer. “AMF! “ he snarled as the ICE shimmered and disappeared.  
O*O  
Ace sent another wave of healing energy through Ferret’s body as he convulsed and his nose began to bleed.  
“He ok?” Lobo asked.  
Ace assensed the decker but other than the nose and a racing heart he found no more damange. “He’s fine for now.”  
O*O  
“Aw drek!’ Michael leaned forward and banged on the bank of cameras as the video feed was replaced by the hiss of snow on the monitors. Fagetti was not going to be pleased. For a moment he debated calling the boss but then he shook his head. The last thing he wanted to deal with at this time of night was a pissed off hit man. It would be much better to just call the tech in the morning and have it all fixed by the time Fagetti showed up.  
O*O  
Ferret laid still for a moment trying to catch his breath before looking around at the mess the fight had made of the node. If he was lucky the system hadn’t completely crashed or worse alerted more black ICE. When nothing else appeared he carefully sat up. ‘Well that’s one way to take out the cameras.’ However time was running out as dawn rapidly approached and he had to find the door controls fast. He backed out of the node and scanned the main room. There was nothing apparent on the stage so he moved across the room and slipped behind the bar. Under the counter he found a box with a brass grill over a hole and dials of some sort. It looked familiar somehow but he wasn’t sure where he might have seen such a thing. Dismissing it, he moved further down checking under and behind things. At the very end of the bar, under the beer tap, he found a bank of levers hidden in the shadows. He ran a quick analysis and almost crowed in triumph. Above each lever was a tiny light, barely bigger than a pin head, that changed from red to green as he slid it down.  He was about to leave when he suddenly remembered where he had seen the box. It was in an old book about communications devices and was called a telephone. He ran another analysis and chuckled softly. He gingerly knelt down and pulled out a tool kit and removed the back of the device. Inside was a hodgepodge of wires. He wasn’t sure which one to snip so he shrugged and pulled each one away from its connecter until the telephone was little better than scrap. Satisfied that no one would be getting a telecom call out tonight, he jacked out.  
O*O  
Lobo straightened up as the door unlocked with a soft click. “We’re in.” He turned to Corrine, keeping his voice low. “Agent, anything else we need to know before we start?”  
Corinne nodded. “The security office is on the second floor. They monitor the cameras from there,” she said. “The cell where they have Jase will be in the basement. There shouldn’t be more than ten men on site, but Fagetti might have anticipated something so don’t quote me on that.”  
Lobo eased the door open and slipped through, followed by his men and the fed. A moment later they were joined by Prophet who sported a fierce grin and smelled of brimstone and sulfur. Lobo nodded to the dwarf and led the way down the hall, pausing in front of the basement door. “Prophet, you and Ace do the recon.”  
Prophet sank down and crossed his legs. He closed his eyes and slipped into the astral plane. A heartbeat later Ace joined him. In the astral Ace’s face took on a decidedly feral cast and his hair shaded to a more foxy red. His elven features grew even sharper and his eyes glowed amber. The ghostly image of a fox appeared, wrapping around him like a cape and hood. Prophet grinned at his colleague. “Shall we? You want to go up or down?”  
Ace stretched and smiled at the dwarf. “I will go down. Shall we meet back here?”  
“Yes. Watch out for the mage. I don’t think I alerted him but you never know.” Prophet warned him.  
Ace touched his forehead with two fingers and sank through the floor. Prophet headed the other way and slipped through the ceiling, coming out in a hallway on the second floor. He drifted down the hall, peeking into the offices as he passed each one, until he came to the second to the last door. He looked down at the sliver of light that shone under the door. Sliding along the wall, he carefully stepped through. Sitting in a chair with a scowl on his face was a man. A samurai if the black spots in his meat where anything to go by. He didn’t have enough headware to be a decker, and his skeleton was laced with metal and carbon fiber, both of which showed flat black to Prophet’s mage sight. Too much for him to be a spell slinger. Prophet shuddered at the thought of how all that technology cut one off from the ebb and flow of magic. That was a fear every spell slinger lived with but so far he had been incredibly lucky that he had never had to go under the knife. Prophet shook his head, time enough for contemplation later, now was time to work. The man was sitting in front of a bank of some kind of technology but again, it all appeared as a flat black smear across the material plane, in contrast to the vivid glowing colors of living organisms. Even the sammy for all the crap he had installed in his meat was a vibrant spark against the dark background. The febbie had said the security room was on the second floor and he hadn’t seen another soul up here so this must be it. Prophet stepped back out into the hall and headed back to the first floor and into the dining room. Two men sat at a table in the front room playing cards and drinking something. Judging from their auras it was something alcoholic. He rolled his eyes at their stupidity. Fagetti must have scrapped the bottom of the barrel when he recruited these two. He went back to his body and slipped back in, He sat quietly for a minute readjusting to the change in his senses and perceptions. It was both a loss and a gain slipping from body to astral and back. On the one hand in his body he had his five senses and all the sensual pleasures and solidity of the material world, but on the astral plane to think was to be and there was a heady joy in the power and majesty of that as well.  
O*O  
Ace looked around the basement room. He shuddered at the cold miasma of misery he sensed. The stench of pain and fear permeated the walls and the fog it created was so overwhelming that it stifled the senses. How anyone could sleep down here boggled the mind! Were these men so devoid of humanity that they could no longer feel another’s agony? And the mage! Only one completely corrupted by evil could tolerate resting in this environment. Ace snarled, this place would burn before the night was over. His oath as a shaman on that. He silently drifted into the far room and stopped at the sight of the febbie. Jase hovered on the edge of eternity and if they had waited another day they would have been rescuing nothing but a corpse. He stepped through the wall into the next room. Five men slept in bunk beds along three of the walls. He took a good look around, spotting the mage as the only man without a bunk mate. He snorted. Figures. Ah well he would at least have company on his trip to hell. He headed back to his body to report.  
O*O  
“Stud, you and Falcon take out the two in the dining room. Then head upstairs and take out the security guy. The rest of us are going to wait here until you get back.”  
Stud screwed a silencer onto his Predator and nodded to Falcon. The two men made their way through the kitchen and paused at the exit out into the dining room.  
Corinne fidgeted while she watched the two confer and then Falcon reached out and eased the door open enough to allow his partner to slip through. It was so strange not to be hearing chatter on her tac channel, to be cut off from the conversation that she could tell was taking place on the Seventh’s com units. Even worse was being out of touch with her partner, but there was no fucking way she was going to give Lobo more ammunition for another dress down, so she settled for running her thumb along the back of her hand, a habit she had picked up while cramming for exams at Quantico. It was a tell of course but somehow the comfort she derived from that simple action, always seemed to over ride the urge to eradicate it.  

O*O  
Nico laid down a straight and grinned in triumph as he reached for the ring Tony had laid down as his bet. A flicker of motion caught his eye as he glanced up at his cousin. His eyes widened as the figure in the doorway to the kitchen raised a hand and he found himself staring down the barrel of an Ares Predator. Even with boosted reflexes he barely had time to flinch before the bullet entered his skull.  
Tony shrieked as his cousin's head exploded, throwing shards of bone, brain matter, and blood all over the table and floor behind him. He threw himself to the right, fighting gravity as he twisted so he could see who had just killed Nico. There was an explosion of agony low in his back as he hit the floor and another in his chest. Something was seriously wrong, for some reason he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. He looked up in confusion at the figure looming over him. The last thing he saw was a muzzle flash.   
O*O  
Stud stepped over their bodies, carefully avoiding the spreading blood pool and headed for the stairs, followed closely by Falcon.  
“Any idea how to get to this asswipe?” Stud asked keeping his voice low.  
Falcon shot him a look. “Other than with a crowbar?”  
Stud grinned. “I suppose we could blow him up.”  
Falcon rolled his eyes and snorted. “Oh yeah, cause that’s all kinds of subtle! Don’t worry about gettin in. I have a plan.”  
Stud turned and looked at him skeptically. “Oh?”  
Falcon nodded. “Yep,” he said cheerfully. “I’m going to knock on the door and he is gonna let us in.”  
Stud snorted. “All righty then. This I have got to see.” He led the way down the hall and stopped in front of the door. With a wave of his hand he indicated that Falcon should do his thing.  
Falcon smirked at his partner and stepped up, rapping his knuckles on the door. “Hey, open up, got a cup of soy-caf for ya.” He waited patiently as sounds from inside indicated movement and the second the door cracked open he charged, hitting the door with his shoulder. The door flew back crashing into the wall with a loud bang and the man on the other side fell backward landing on his ass with a wordless shout of surprise. He looked up at them eyes wide and Falcon felt a brief flash of regret as he put two rounds into the man’s chest. “Upper floors secured, Lobo. On our way back down.”  
“Copy.”  
O*O  
The men of the Seventh clustered around their leader at the head of the stairs subvocally discussing the best plan for prying the remaining mobsters from their lair. It was eerily silent even though Corinne could tell who was speaking by who they looked at. At last they turned to Stud and the big samurai’s blue eyes flashed with hatred and fury as he punctuated his point with a waving hand. Lobo nodded and flashed a glance at her before turning back to Stud. He said something which made them all chuckle. She huffed under her breath. Couldn’t they be bothered to even tell her what her part was in the coming fight? She shook her head and cautiously eased her way behind Ferret keeping him between herself and Stud. Somehow the decker wasn’t quite as scary as the rest of these men. She was pretty sure they wouldn’t deliberately hurt her but it paid to be careful.  When she looked up all of them with the exception of Falcon were starting down the stairs. She gave him a curious glance as she passed but he just grinned as he laid down on the landing and trained his rifle on the door into the ‘barracks.’  
The moment Lobo stepped off the bottom step there was a shriek as loud as a train whistle. Corrine flinched and almost missed the next step. A swirl of air coalesced in the center of the room and zipped into the room where the men lay sleeping. Lobo growled and shot Ace a glare. The shaman blushed and gave him a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. ‘Sorry,’ he mouthed.  
They all dove for cover when men in various stages of undress boiled out of the room, guns blazing. Ironically she found herself sheltering behind a hastily tipped table with Stud. She cowered in his shadow and prayed that he wouldn’t take the opportunity to shoot her simply on principal. Oddly she couldn’t find it in her heart to blame him if he did. This job had been fragged up since day one and she was heartily sick of the whole mess.  
Stud glanced her way and reached back pulling her further into the shelter of his body. “Keep your head down,” he snapped. He reached down and fumbled at his boot, finally drawing out a snub nosed hold out pistol and without even looking at her held it out.  
Corrine took the pistol and peeked out from behind the table. She squeaked and pulled her head back as a round impacted the table showering her with shards of wood. Over head came a loud crack as Falcon fired his Draganov. The rest of them opened fire as well and the barrage of sound assaulted her, echoing off the bare plascrete walls, until her ears rang. She almost laughed as she peeked out again and one of the men opposing them stood gaping at the corpse of their mage, who seemed to be missing his face, while two of them fell all over each other in their mad scramble to get a door between them and the devastating firepower of Falcon and his rifle. The last man locked eyes with her and snarled as he recognized her. His arm was a blur as he raised his weapon and fired.  She fell back against Stud reeling as what felt like a giant hand slapped her upside the head. Stud grabbed her and pulled her back into the shelter of the table covering her body with his own. “He’s boosted,” she managed to gasp. She wasn’t sure if he heard her over the roar of gunfire, so she clawed at his armored jacket trying to rise up high enough to yell in his ear. Grabbing his collar she dragged him down as she climbed up his body. Finally getting his attention she tried again. “Stud! He’s boosted!” She slumped into his arms as he nodded, his lips moving as he subvocalised the information to the rest of his team. The table behind her back shook as a barrage of bullets slammed into it. She cringed under the onslaught. Damn it would be nice to be able to burrow under the floor right about now. Then the Draganov spoke again and this time it barely registered on her senses, buried as she was under Stud’s bulk. Drek, another one down and she hadn’t even managed to fire once. The cacophony of gunfire lasted for what seemed like hours and abruptly stopped.  
O*O  
The last echo hadn’t even died away before Lobo was up and moving. ‘Falcon, you have high watch. Ace, take the woman and get her partner ready for transport. Stud, loot the bodies, Prophet loot the mage. Ferret get whatever you can out of their computer system and make sure we aren’t on it. We are out of here in five. Go.’  
O*O  
The sudden silence was almost louder than the firefight had been. There was a shrill high whine deep in her head which throbbed in time with her heartbeat. Cautiously she stirred, only to still again when Stud’s hand clamped down on her shoulder. He pressed her back down to the floor in a mute command to stay put, then he hefted his bulk off her. She glanced up and watched his face as he stood and stepped out into the open. He cocked his head as though listening to something and then his blue eyes narrowed and a thin smile of satisfaction crossed his face as he looked around the room. Finally his gaze came back and met hers and he nodded. She scrambled to her feet, swaying as she stood upright. Grabbing the edge of the table she steadied herself until her head stopped swimming and she caught her balance.  
“Go with Ace. We are out of here in five.” He watched her as she dashed across the room like she had been poked in the ass with a sharp stick, then turned back to his grisly task of looting the bodies.  
Ace followed Corinne as she hurried to get to Jase.  
O*O

Jase’s nose twitched at the scent of blood and cordite. It was quiet again, other than the annoying drip drip drip from the broken facet. Somehow it had gotten broken in the struggle when they shoved his head under the water.  
His lungs ached at the memory....

“Jase?” 

Jase? He knew that word, knew that voice. It called to him, demanding his attention. He shook his head trying to clear the fuzzy feeling away but the movement set off a wave of agony and he yelped as everything went grey and then black. 

Why am I moving? The thought chased around his head like mice in a cage. It felt like he was was falling, then the pressure on his wrists was released and his arms fell to his sides, the numbness in his shoulders and arms giving way to a raging fire as circulation returned .  His bare feet touched the ground, the cold plascrete greedily sucking the warmth from his toes and the soles of his feet, and his knee crumpled under his weight. Something held him up, keeping him from tumbling to the hard floor and he felt pathetically grateful. He tried to mumble thanks but a harsh moan was all he could manage. Even that sound tore at his parched throat like sandpaper across a sunburn. Please no more. 

 He struggled to open eyelids that felt like lead weights keeping him blind. There were voices all around him, speaking fast and clipped, urgent and rough with worry. He tried to listen, whatever was going on must be important, but his mind refused to focus. Everything was receding again. His hands clenched, grabbing hold of something warm. Some where above him came a gasp and something slid into the palm of his hand and squeezed. He tried again to open his eyes but they seemed glued shut and at last he gave up and allowed himself to slip down again into the comforting darkness. Down here Fred couldn’t get to him, pain had no meaning, here it was safe, warm and he could hide in the darkness. 

O*O

Ace tapped out a rhythm with his toes as his hands strove to weave the burnt and raged threads of Jase’s aura back together. The healing spell bolstered a faltering heartbeat, knit torn flesh, forced tortured lungs to draw in first one breath then another. But there was only so much he could do. If this man was going to live they had to get him to Potshot as fast as possible. “Miss Carnesîr, reach into my backpack and get the stretcher out and set it up. We need to move fast.” 

He reached into his waist pouch and pulled out a slap patch. Carefully peeling the backing off he searched for a patch of unmarred skin to apply it too. There didn’t seem to be a single place to stick it to that wasn’t covered with blood, vomit or grime, he finally settled on a spot on his side just below the armpit. It was covered in bruises from repeated blows to his torso and Ace could feel the give in the man’s ribs even though he used his most gentle touch. He soothed the patch into place. It would deliver pain killers, antibiotics, and stimulants that would help keep him alive until they could get him to the doc. The febbie knelt beside him, tears making silver tracks down her pale cheeks, as she grimly went about opening and getting the stretcher ready to move her battered partner and, Ace noted, her hands did not shake. 

“Is he...” her voice faded to a whisper. 

Ace shook his head. “No, but he will die if we don’t get him to the doc soon.” He patted her hand as she blanched. Reaching up he pressed the button on his throat mic. ‘Lobo, we are ready to move him now. We need to hurry, he is fading fast.’ 

‘Copy that. On the way.’   
O*O  
Potshot and her surgical team were waiting for them as they brought the injured man through the door. They were roughly shoved out of the way as the nurses and orderly’s swarmed over the battered form and whisked him off into an operating room. The doctor nodded once and swept through the doors leaving the agent and the men of the Seventh staring after her. A nurse ushered Corrine into a small room to wait and Lobo followed her, pausing in the doorway. His gray eyes glittered in the dim light.  
“We are taking off,” he said quietly.  
Corinne nodded. She had expected as much.  “Thank you.”  
Lobo shrugged. “You can trust Potshot. She can help you get back to your team safely.”  
She nodded again. “All right. What are you all going to do now?”  
Lobo gave her a wolfish grin. “Survive.”  
O*O  
Fagetti paused beside Fred, and glanced around the room. “Mr. D’Agostino, will not be pleased with this development.” He shifted his attention to the assassin. “This ends now. I want you to track down these sons of slitches and kill them. No more dickin around and Fred...” He turned to look into the hitman’s eyes. “Bring me Lobo’s head on a fucking platter.”  
O*O  
Ferret started the City Master and looked into the rearview making eye contact with Lobo. “Where to boss?”  
“Back to base.” Lobo’s tone was bland, but the feral grin and glitter of his eyes, belied that.  
Falcon lifted an eyebrow. “You’re luring them in?”  
Lobo flashed bared teeth. “One way or the other we have to end this now, but I am not minded to be constantly looking over my shoulder. Are you?”  
“Hell, no.” Stud snapped. “None of us are.”  
“They know where to find us, but we have home advantage.” Ace smirked.  
“Exactly.” Lobo said.

O*O


	7. Chapter 7

HAD~ high altitude drone used for surveillance  
U2C ~ Upright Uptight Citizen ~ Cityspeak ~slang for a normal person / non combatant.   
Wetwork ~ murder for hire, assassination.   
Breeder ~ Ork slang for a "normal" human.   
CD Wolfhound VT~ A vector thrust surveillance drone.   
Smartlink A smartlink is the feedback loop circuitry necessary to take full advantage of a smartgun. Targeting information appears on the user's retina or cybereye as a small dot or a cross hairs that corresponds to the smartweapon's current line of fire. Typical systems use a subdermal induction pad in the user's palm to link with the smartgun. 

 

“Some days it feels like all I'm doing is rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic.” ~ Ace - Fox Shaman   
* O *  
Chris quietly locked the door to his office and sat down at his desk. Reaching into the bottom drawer he pulled out a bottle of whiskey and carefully poured two fingers worth into a glass before returning the bottle to its hiding place. He sat back and sipped his drink as he ran through mental preparations for the upcoming fight. It was inevitable since there was no way that Fagetti would let their raid on the restaurant slide, but at this point he welcomed the thought. It was going to feel so good to finally nail the bastards who hurt JD and Nathan to the wall. 

Vin put one last case of ammo down in his nest and surveyed his killing field. The discretely placed flags fluttered in the breeze showing direction and approximated wind speed. The familiar routine soothed his nerves and that in turn allowed him to focus. Below him Ezra stepped into view, his auburn hair glowing red in the late afternoon sun. Vin smiled wistfully as Ezra danced in the courtyard of their compound calling up a watcher spirit to guard the perimeter. Not for the first time he wished that he could see magic the way Josiah and Ezra could, but his own magic was that of the body rather than of the soul like Josiah or of the spirit like Ezra. The sound of an approaching car on their out of the way street caught his attention. ‘Lobo, we got company.’ 

‘On my way.’ 

The car, a nondescript, Ford Americar, stopped short of their drive way and the passenger door opened and a man stepped out his arms held wide. Vin relaxed immediately as he recognized the man, although why Hunter was showing up now he wasn’t sure. He and his cousin had been keeping an eye out on Nathan the last he knew. ‘It’s Hunter. Somebody wanna let him in?’   
*O*  
The main door rose, a mute invitation to enter, and Archangel drove in and turned the vehicle off. The door to the compound opened and he could see Prophet waiting for them. Knowing the mage he probably had his elementals standing by in case the car was a Trojan horse. He grinned at their obvious paranoia and was glad to see that even the sight of an ally wasn’t enough to drop their guard. He turned to help Nathan out of the back seat, steadying him as he stood up. The medic smiled and shuffled forward to greet his team mate, leaving Hunter and Angel to follow them down the hall. 

O*O

JD sighed in relief as he finished the last diagnostic on his drones. Everything was finally up to date with the latest programs and he was excited to try out the new concoction he had picked up for his Ares Scorpion. At a mere seventeen centimeters it wasn’t impressive to look at but it could squeeze into tiny spaces and deliver a lethal dose of any number of noxious substances without the target ever knowing what hit them. Granted it only carried one dose at a time, but for stealth it couldn’t be beat. He loaded the cartridge into the drone and set it aside while he set the parameters for his R3T-G rat drone. Once he had it programmed he sent it out to patrol the perimeter of the property and jacked out.   
O*O  
Hunter followed Prophet, DT, and his cousin down the hallway until it opened up into the large central room. He took a seat on one of the couches and waited for the rest of the Seventh to join them. He frowned as DT gingerly tried to find a comfortable position. The medic should still be in the hospital under a doctor’s care, but he had been insistent that his team needed him and it seemed to Hunter that fretting about the rest of the group was doing DT more harm than letting him come home would.   
O*O  
Chris tossed back the last sip of whiskey and set the glass down with a sigh. He wasn’t surprised that Nathan had ignored Potshot’s demand that he stay in bed and rest. Hell, none of them were good at following the doc’s recommendations when it came to staying put for long. What did surprise him was how long it had taken the medic to sneak back home. The biggest question though was how he had talked Hunter into it. A question that would soon be answered. He paused at the door and put on a scowl. No sense in letting DT know that he was secretly glad to have the man back where he belonged. If he gave his men an inch they would take a mile and then there was no telling what shenanigans they would get up to. And that just added to the gray hairs he was currently sporting.   
O*O  
Nathan fidgeted while he waited for Chris to join them. The sammy was not going to be pleased that he was disobeying the doc, but Nathan was going nuts just sitting around the safe house. Hunter and Angel were pleasant enough companions and he enjoyed spending time with them but knowing who was after them Nathan was reluctant to put more friends into the line of fire. D’Agostino’s men didn’t give a fuck about collateral damage and he would be damned if he got these men killed trying to protect him. Chris was just going to have to suck it up because he was not going to go back to hiding while his team was in danger. Nathan squared his shoulders and steeled his resolve for the coming argument. He raised his eyes to a familiar scowl as Chris stomped into the room. Plastering on an equally fierce frown, he hunched his shoulders and prepared to fight for the right to stay.   
Chris shot a glance toward Nathan. The medic was obviously spoiling for a fight but he would just have to wait. Chris pointedly turned his attention to their guests and suppressed a grin at the faint hiss of irritation his teammate let out at the snub. “Hunter, if I may have a word?” He led the way out of the room and back to his office, ushering the sammy in with a wave. 

Hunter sauntered in to Lobo’s office and looked around the room curiously. A large wooden desk dominated the space. One wall was covered with floor to ceiling bookshelves that were crammed with old books and odd items. On the center shelf at eye level a single spur rested next to an old whiskey bottle labeled Red Eye. He turned away from the shelf and took a seat. “It’s not my fault,” he stated baldly. “If we didn’t bring him back he would have called a cab.” 

Chris laughed. “Probably, but that isn’t why I wanted to talk to ya. Got one more job for ya if you’re up for it.” 

Hunter arched an eyebrow. “We still havn’t told the judge we are ready to come back so what’da need?” 

Chris sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That lady “friend” Stud picked up? Turns out she is an undercover cop on a task force trying to take down D’Agostino. She and her partner got made and he was captured.” He nodded as Hunter shuddered. “Yeah, and it’s as bad as anything that just ran through your head. We got him out though and he and the girl are with Potshot, but Hunter, you know what the Don’s men are like. They ain’t gonna shrug and let it go. So I need you and Angel over there body guarding her. We can pay...” he stopped as Hunter shook his head. 

“No payment necessary. Angel and me still owe that fucker for the loss of Skid Row. We’ll head over there as soon as we leave here.” He smiled at the visible relief in Chris’ grey eyes. “You like this girl?” 

Chris snorted. “She’s a pain in the ass feebie. But she tried to protect Stud and that is a debt I won’t let go unpaid.” 

“Especially when it leaves you owing the feebies?” Hunter guessed.   
Chris nodded. “Exactly!” He stood and held out a hand. “Rather owe you,” he grinned. 

Hunter shook the offered hand and smiled back, his green eyes twinkling with mischief. “They might be cheaper in the long run, “ he warned. 

“I’ll take my chances.” 

O*O

Hunter and Angel didn’t linger, they simply made their farewells and left heading for Potshot’s office. Chris saw them off and retreated back to his office. He took out his weapons and made sure all were in working order and ready to go, with full clips and extra ammo loaded and ready. This was the part he hated the worse, the damn seemingly endless wait for something to happen. Maybe they should take the battle to the enemy. They had been attacked so many times at this point that the men of the Seventh were itching for a fight. Yeah, it was definitely time to go on the offensive. “No more sitting around waiting. Time to make those fuckers pay for what they did,” Chris growled under his breath. ‘Ezra, is your watcher still on Fagetti?’

Ezra snorted. ‘It is.’ 

Chris chuckled evilly. ‘Change of plans, pack it up, boys. We’re gonna go hunt some bear.’

‘About damn time,’ Josiah’s deep voice came loud over the com. 

 

O*O  
Fred seethed as Fagetti stomped around the room snapping at his men. The hitman’s veins throbbed a deep red against the pale skin of his neck, his face flushed, which just served to highlight the scars that peppered his face. When the man was calm it wan’t something you would ever notice. Now however stress was illustrating the hard life the man had subjected himself to. It wasn’t a pretty picture. Fred turned slightly as he caught a glint of light out of the corner of his eye. He dropped without hesitation and cursed at the tug and sting as a lock of his hair was ripped out of his head by the high speed passage of a bullet that buried itself in the back of the skull of the man talking to Fagetti. Blood, brain matter and bits of bone peppered the hit man as he threw himself behind cover. Around the room screams of pain and shouts added to the chaos and men scrambled for shelter against the deadly bombardment of gunfire. Fred hugged the ground and looked around frantically for someplace to hide. This was not his kind of fight and he was loath to raise his head enough to look around. It had to be the Seventh out there and he knew just how deadly their sniper was. All it would take would be the merest twitch to draw Falcon’s attention and it would all be over, but he would be damned if he was going out that way so he lay still and kept his head down. It seemed like hours before the roar of gunfire stopped, although in truth it was probably less then five minutes. Minutes of silence passed, cut only by the moans of the wounded, before anyone dared to stir. Cautiously Fred raised his head and looked around. The curtains on the windows had been shredded by the devastating firepower and the front window was a gaping maw of jagged glass fragments and a dust cloud that twinkled in the setting sun. Fred clamped a hand over his face to avoid breathing in the powdered glass and scooted away from the front of the room. He rolled over and surveyed the rest of the area. Blood splattered the walls and smoking holes covered every surface from floor to ceiling. Grimly he met Fagetti’s furious gaze.   
“No more fucking around. We kill them now,” Fagetti ground out. He pressed the heel of his hand deep into the meat of his thigh as blood oozed out around the edges.  
Fred nodded absently, his mind already contemplating the slow flaying of Falcon. He would enjoy hearing the sniper scream his way into hell.   
Fagetti froze as a voice called from outside.  
"Fagetti! You've been looking for me, you son of a bitch. Well here I am. Come on and let's settle this once and for all. Mano a mano.  If you're not yellow. Which I seriously question since you've been using ambushes instead of facing us head on, ya fucking coward."   
Fagetti growled at the note of mocking contempt in Lobo’s voice. He looked around taking stock of what he had to work with. Out of the twenty-five men who had crowded the room, only fifteen of them seemed fit to carry on the fight. Fifteen, himself and Fred that was. Even with their losses they still outnumbered the Seventh two to one.  
Fagetti coughed as his nose twitched. Was that smoke? He looked around searching for the source. He caught a glow out of the corner of his eye. A massive form filled the corner of the room, malevolent eyes staring back at him and the smell of brimstone and hell emanated from the elemental. Horror curdled in his gut as the fire roared to life, crawling up the wall and across the ceiling like a living thing, devouring everything in its path. The room erupted into a chaotic swirling morass of panic as the men fled from the blaze, trampling on their comrades with no thought other than to get out. Fagetti tried in vain to get their attention but the roar of the fire and the screams of agony as the heat rose and skin crisped swallowed his voice. The building groaned as boards warped under the intense heat and ominous creaks came from the ceiling. He looked up and cringed as the spirit’s eyes crawled across the supporting beam and in the howl of wind and flames he could hear the laughter of the elemental as it consumed the room.   
Rolling over to his belly he looked around for help. Everyone that was mobile had already made the mad scramble for any exit they could find and the only one nearby was Marco who was slowly bleeding out from a gut shot. He met the boy’s frantic eyes and for a brief second he felt a surge of compassion. It was an alien feeling, something that he thought had been ruthlessly stamped out years ago, something no one in his position could afford to indulge. He reached down and slowly drew his pistol keeping it hidden by his side. “Marco! Close your eyes, I’m going to try and get you out.” 

Relief crossed the boy’s face and obediently he shut his eyes, squeezing them tight like a child trying not to peek. He never felt the bullet that released him from his pain and fear.   
Fagetti holstered his pistol and dragged himself toward the doorway leaving a smear of blood in his wake.   
*O*

Vin methodically processed targets as the men came boiling out of the burning building like cockroaches trying to escape a sudden light source. With every crack of his lady another man fell until six bodies littered the area around the back door.  As the last man disappeared behind cover his eyes narrowed and he scanned the street looking for the merest flicker of motion that would give him a target to aim for. A gentle heat bathed the side of his face as one of Josiah’s elementals appeared beside him.   
The elemental’s voice crackled like a campfire, snapping and popping as it spoke. “The leader is out now, but he can not be seen from here.” It raised a tongue of flame like an arm and pointed to the far corner. “He went there, through a forgotten way and into a narrow passage.”   
Nathan swore, “Damn it, why can’t the bad guys ever make things easy for us?”   
Vin snorted, “Oh I don’t know, maybe because they’re the bad guys?” Turning back to the elemental he said, “Go tell Lobo as well.” He waited until it disappeared and then turned his attention back to the kill zone.   
O*O  
Fred’s lip curled in contempt as another of Fagetti’s men was taken out by the Seventh's damn sniper. Granted they were nothing more than tools but he was not finished with them yet.  He stared up at the rooftop where Falcon was perched. He could just make out the end of a gun barrel peeking over the edge from time to time, usually right before or after another of the men died. If they were going to stand any chance at all of getting out of this alive, someone had to go take out Falcon. Luckily for them he excelled at that.   
First however he was going to have to take out the teammates guarding the nest. He crept along the street, darting from cover to cover, until he was far enough away not to be seen by the sharp eyed sniper. Then he crossed the street and slipped through an alleyway to the street beyond that. If he could get in behind them he could sneak up and take them out before they even knew he was there.   
O*O  
Nathan shifted again and swore under his breath, the damn gravel felt like it had a personal vendetta against his hips. He scanned the street slowly watching for any movement... there, behind the rusted hulk of a van he spotted their quarry. ‘Falcon, 2:00, 60 meters, behind the front quarter panel of the van.’   
‘Got ‘em.’   
Vin took the shot and a cut off scream made Nathan smile grimly. No more of the enemy forces made the mistake of showing themselves so Nathan activated the infrared scanner in his cybereye. Bright pockets of swirling orange and red marked where Fagetti’s men had gone to ground but none of them were so much as twitching let alone popping their heads up for Vin to blow it off. Nathan ran his gaze along the line of cars on both sides of the street. A flicker of movement on their side caught his attention. He scooted forward and craned his neck trying to get a bead on whatever was below them. Then he spotted a familiar looking tube. ‘Falcon! Grenade! 6:00, 10 meters, he is next to the drain pipe. about to step out and fire.’  
Vin lunged to his feet and stepped forward leaning against the low wall surrounding the roof top. He slipped out of the sling and angled the barrel of his lady down following the drain pipe until the snarling face of an orc appeared in his crosshairs. He took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger. He started to smile when something plowed into him and he staggered forward and the combination of the hit from behind and the wall catching him in the hip flipped him ass over tea kettle. With a strangled cry he dropped the rifle as he fell. Clutching desperately for a handhold he felt as first one and then another nail tore as they were caught in the rough plascrete but he managed to grab onto a narrow ledge with his fingertips. Stabbing pain shot through his hands and they grew slick from what was either sweat or blood, he wasn’t sure which. 

Nathan blanched and jumped to his feet as he recognized the man who had just knocked Vin off the roof. The last time he had seen that face the hitman had watched him bleed out with dead eyes and a faint smile of satisfaction.  The quiet shick of Nathan's cyber spurs extending was drowned out by the pounding of his heart. His mouth was suddenly dry and he clenched his hands into tight fists. He wasn't sure where the hell the man had come from but he sure wasn't here to invite them to a tea party.   
The hit man smiled thinly at him and drew his knife slashing the air in a wild movement. He cackled as Nathan instinctively jumped back to avoid the blow.   
Nathan’s eyes narrowed as he studied his opponent. The two circled each other and Nathan stepped carefully to avoid the cables that ran across the roof. Those would make for tricky footing as would the thin layer of gravel. It was going to hurt like a bitch if he fell, but at least the poor footing also handicapped the other man and Nathan would ruthlessly use that to his advantage if he could.   
*O*  
Ezra flinched as a rifle clattered to the ground nearby. He recognized the weapon immediately, it was Vin’s beloved Draganov. Alarmed he looked overhead and spotted their sniper dangling from a ledge five stories above. Vin’s feet scrambled for footing against the smooth wall, but Ezra could tell there was nothing to give Vin the leverage to pull himself back up. Unless he could give the sniper a boost. He quickly centered himself and gathered his will.   
A slight grin flittered across his lips as one of Josiah’s favorite sayings came to mind, As above so below.... it wasn’t the usual way a shaman looked at things but in this case it helped him as he held his hands out palms up and visualized the air turning into a solid platform beneath Vin’s feet. Carefully he pushed his hands up until he felt a minute pressure against his palms and Vin’s feet quit their frantic struggle and his body relaxed into the shaman’s grip. Ezra flinched at the crack of a gunshot and the subsequent yelp of pain from Vin as he was stung by the shrapnel of a ricochet.   
Ezra swore and swiftly split the column of air pulling some from the sides to form a solid barrier between Vin and the men taking potshots at him. A wave of dizziness caught him by surprise and he swayed . He almost lost his grip on both the levitate and bullet barrier spells when his elbow slammed into the wall behind him but long hours of practice allowed him to tune out everything but his will and the steady drain of his energy. It was like a dance, balancing the flow of magic in and out to accomplish wondrous things, and Ezra reveled in it.   
O*O  
The flickering of the fire in the corner of his eye was distracting and the deepening shadows as the day gave way to dusk made keeping track of his footing even harder. Nathan flinched away as the hit man scored another hit on his forearm. It stung like a bitch and he could almost feel his energy draining away with the blood flowing down his arms. Thank God he had spurs and not a knife that would be hell to keep hold of given how slippery his hands were getting. He circled trying to get the light from the fire and the street lights behind him so his cybereyes wouldn’t be blinded by their heat signature. He couldn’t afford to lose sight of the hit man for even a second or he was dead.   
Nathan lunged and swiped across Fred’s chest causing the man to leap back to avoid being gutted by Nathan’s cyberspurs. A wisp of fabric fluttered to the ground and the edges of the cut turned crimson letting him know he had scored a hit. Fire safely to the rear now he switched his cybereyes to the infrared setting to offset the growing darkness. His enemy now glowed in lurid shades of red and orange and while it had been disconcerting at first learning to fight using this setting, now after years of practice, it was second nature.   
Both men were bleeding freely from a multitude of cuts on their hands and arms. Nathan knew he was moving much slower than he should be and he really needed to end this fight before his injuries incapacitated him. Luckily the other man also seemed to be slowing down. He was more cautious now and his hits were more precise and deliberate.   
The snarl on Fred’s face and the manic look in his eyes were obscured by the glowing colors of his heat signature. Unable to see them now, the fear that had almost crippled Nathan faded and an almost zen like calm settled over his mind. He barely felt the cuts as Fred’s knife slid along the surface of his arms as he blocked hit after hit. 

O*O  
Chris growled at the elemental’s report of Fagetti’s escape. Figured the damned coward would run and leave his men to face the Seventh’s wrath alone, but what could you expect from a man whose entire career was doing wet work for the fucking mob. “Can you track him?”   
The elemental hissed and popped for a moment. “Yesss. He went that way.” An arm of flame pointed toward a building.   
“In that warehouse?”   
The spirit shrugged. “That way.”   
Chris considered for a moment. ‘Ferret. Get over here, gonna need you and your drones.’   
O*O  
Nathan blocked a roundhouse and stepped into his opponent’s range. He pivoted, smashing his elbow into the other man’s nose, shoving him backward with the power of the blow. He grinned ferally at the crunch of cartilage and the rush of blood that instantly coated the assassin’s face.   
Fred staggered back tripping over a cable and landed on his ass. He screamed in agony as Nathan’s boot ruptured his testicles and then the medic was on him, blows coming fast and savage with no let up, no mercy in the dark brutal gaze. The pain in his balls was so overwhelming that he couldn’t breathe, let alone fight back. When Nathan slipped in the blood around his feet Fred weakly shoved him away and scrambled to his feet. He weaved back and forth for a moment trying desperately to catch his breath.  
Nathan stutter- stepped until he finally found a dry patch that let him lunge forward and drive his spurs into Fred’s belly. He could feel it as the man’s skin and muscles slid aside, as the tips caught on ribs and finally his knuckles came to a stop on Fred’s stomach.   
The hitman threw his head back in a silent scream exposing his throat. Nathan snarled savagely and thrust his other hand up under Fred’s chin. He pushed with all his remaining strength until he heard a pop as his spurs broke through the bone and cartilage into the roof of the man’s mouth. Grunting he lifted the assassin and tossed him over the edge of the roof. Panting for breath and weaving in exhaustion he watched as Fred’s body landed five stories below with a satisfying crash on the hood of a car. He huffed in exasperated amusement as the car’s security system finally decided that a corpse landing on it was offensive in some manner and went off adding a strident whooping alarm to the utter chaos below.   
O*O  
Vin flinched as a body fell past him. The platform of air below his feet sagged as whoever it was landed with a shriek of metal and shattering glass then it firmed up only to go soft again as an alarm blared. He craned his head trying to see what was happening but to get a good luck he would have to trust to the levitate spell that was all that was keeping him from joining the dead guy below. Vin shook his head ruefully as his aching fingers clutched reflexively at the ledge. Nope not gonna happen. He winced as the com crackled in his ear.   
“Falcon, I am about to lift you up. Reach as high as you can.”   
Vin relaxed even more at the soft Southern accent. He should have known it was Ezra who had caught him. Now that he was paying attention he could feel the warm soothing ... whatever it was that marked the Fox shaman’s spells. Josiah’s spells felt more clinical and precise, but Ezra’s felt like being wrapped in a soft quilt, like a cold beer after a long hot summer day, like coming home.   
“Good! Any day now would be jus’ fine by me,” Vin groused.   
Ezra chuckled softly and lifted his hands watching intently as the sniper rose in the air until he could reach the lip of the building. A dark hand reached down and grasped Falcon by the forearm, biceps bulging as Nathan lifted his team mate up and helped him over the low wall. Taking a deep breath he turned his attention to Vin’s Draganov and levitated it up to the roof. He held it in place until Nathan got a good grip then he let the spell fade away.   
“I got ‘em Ace.”   
Ezra frowned at the tired note in Nathan’s voice, but then a wave of dizziness washed away his concern as he sank to his knees. Brushing his hand over his face he closed his eyes for just a moment. Gah drain was a stone cold bitch and he really didn’t have time for it right now. Resolutely he pushed his fatigue away and staggered to his feet.   
A gunshot rang out as he stood and the impact between his shoulders shoved him forward into the wall. Ezra yelped and dove for cover. Looking around wildly he finally spotted the man and narrowed his eyes in concentration.   
O*O  
Vin collapsed against the wall gasping for breath, both arms and hands aching. He stared down at the gnarled knuckles as his hands cramped. His nails were torn and the pads of his fingers looked like he had touched a sanding wheel. Ah well, at least he didn’t have to worry about leaving fingerprints for awhile. He chuckled softly then tilted his head to look at his team mate. Nathan too looked like he had been put through the wringer. His sleeves were tattered and stained with what was most likely blood although color was impossible to discern by the dim street lights and his head hung as he slid down to sit beside Vin. In a moment he would get the first aid kit and start patching Nathan up but first he took some time to just catch his breath and revel in being back on solid ground.   
The two men leaned against each other taking comfort in the warmth where their shoulders met and their survival despite Fagetti and his men’s best efforts.  
O*O  
Ezra snarled as the continued gunfire kept him pinned behind the dubious shelter of the shrieking car. His ears rang from the constant whoop whoop whoop of the alarm and it was getting harder to see as the street lights flickered back and forth from a bright white to a faded dingy brown. The gut wrenching stench of released bowels and blood from whoever it was that Nathan had killed offended his nose and made his stomach churn and he was fast loosing patience with the whole damn situation.   
Another round tugged at his jacket sleeve and with a shout he bounced to his feet and shoved a wave of pure mana across the street. It slammed into the rusted out bulk of a van and there was a scream of fear as the sides crumpled inward. The windshield bowed outward and when the glass finally gave way it shot out peppering the sidewalk. He was just sorry it was safety glass and not the more deadly shards of a window pane. Still, the spell had done as he wished and three men dashed for better cover giving him line of sight on their soon to be dead asses. He took a deep breath and his eyes and hands glowed with foxfire as he gathered handfuls of mana and threw it. The ball moved faster than thought enveloping the men and two of them went up like a bonfire.  
The third froze in fear and that proved his undoing as another ball hit him at the base of his throat. The light from the fire lit up his face and Ezra could see the look of sheer panic and terror in the man’s eyes before he was nothing more than fuel for the unearthly blaze.  
Ezra watched as he burned with a dispassionate gaze. He wished he could feel some sort of compassion, really he did, but the memory of Buck’s agonized eyes when he thought JD and Nathan had died, Vin’s frozen stillness, the whispered prayers of Josiah as he tried to comfort his team and the look of gut wrenching guilt and anguish on Chris’ face killed any feeling he might have had for the man’s death.  
He and all of Fagetti’s men could have chosen to walk away, could have chosen a different path through life. No one had force them to work for a monster like D’Agostino. No one had held a gun barrel to their heads and made them come after he and his brothers because they had dared to protect a child. Rage flared hot and savage in his heart as he remembered the night spent huddling in a burnt out gas station with Billy Travis and the child’s frantic efforts to keep him alive until the team could come find them. He spun at the sudden awareness of movement. The rage he felt was echoed in the eyes of the man behind him and the dark eye of the gun barrel pointed at his chest was massive.   
Channeling his rage gave him just enough umph to get his spell off a split second before the gun spit and the muzzle flash flared in the darkness. The round flattened itself on his bullet barrier but the concussive force was still enough to knock him on his ass and made his eyes cross and his ears ring. The man slumped back against the wall behind him and slid down as his brains leaked out his nose and blood poured out of his eyes and ears running down the side of his neck and his cheeks.   
Ezra fell over as the drain from casting too many spells too quickly hit him like an enraged troll at an Urban Brawl game. His head swam as he tried to form a coherent thought. He had to be somewhere but couldn’t quite remember where. There was just a feeling of urgent need. Gingerly climbing to his feet he staggered around the corner into the street. 

O*O  
Vin pulled the med kit out of Nathan’s pack and dug around in it until he found the stim and trauma patches. He passed them to the medic and waited patiently while he patched them both up. The familiar taste of olives filled his mouth as the DMSO flooded his system with pain killers, antibiotics and stimulates designed to keep him on his feet and functioning until they could get to Potshot.   
“Gah!” Nathan’s face twisted into a grimace of disgust as his trauma patch kicked in.   
Vin chuckled softly. The medic’s distaste for olives was well known and while he sympathized it was still funny.    
He stopped laughing when Nathan had to reduce both shoulders.    
He really hadn’t realized that both were dislocated until Nathan had grabbed his elbow to look at his hands and the subsequent agony drove him to his knees. Adrenaline anesthesia is a beautiful thing, but the lull in the fight had allowed it to wear off. He looked up at Nathan and clenched his teeth. “Reduce ‘em. Do it now while the patch is fresh,” he ground out.   
Nathan frowned. “Falcon, you need to be sedated for that...” he paused as the phys ad shook his head.   
“Just do it! I can suppress the swelling and the pain but ya gotta do it now. Ya wait much longer an’ I won’t be able ta control it. Jes, let me trance first.”   
“Ok, ok don’t get your panties in a twist,” Nathan grumbled. He waited while Vin sank into the light trance that he used when he needed to access his phys ad abilities consciously.   
Once the sniper was calm and centered he nodded and took a deep breath. He could feel Nathan probing the joint to determine the placement of bones, tendons, and muscle, but he sent a pulse of endorphins through his brain to compensate and suppressed the swelling to allow Nathan to ease the bones back into the joints with a minimum of damage. By the time Nathan stepped back Vin was pale and shaking, and a thin layer of sweat coated his skin.  
Nathan slid down to sit beside him careful not to jostle his arm. “’Siah will be in a second.”   
True to his word it wasn’t more than a few heartbeats before the heard the sound of heavy footsteps and Josiah’s grizzled hair appeared coming up the steps. From the scowl on his face you would think that the injuries they both sustained had be put there solely for his inconvenience. Vin could hear the dwarf grumbling under his breath but even before he reached them the gentle warmth of his magic enveloped them and Vin could feel the sting and ache in his hands and shoulders being soothed away as bones knit together and tiny rips in the muscle healed. It didn’t come a moment to soon because the roar of gunfire from below got even louder and Vin could hear Buck’s snap of anger and fear as he tried to get Ezra to safety. Vin gave a sigh of relief and snagged his rifle as he rose to his feet and moved into position to cover his team mates. 

O*O  
Buck hissed in annoyance as first JD and then Ezra came around the corner. JD wasn’t so bad really, he at least kept his head down and darted from one bit of cover to another when there was a lull in the fight before slipping into one of the abandoned buildings and disappearing from view. Ezra, however, stepped out into the street with a pinched look around his mouth and green eyes focused somewhere other than were he was.   
‘Ace! Damn it get down!’ Buck snapped off a quick shot at the man targeting the shaman with a nasty grin. The mobster ducked back down with a yelp as Buck’s round grazed his neck.   
As a bullet slammed into the pavement at his feet Ezra looked around wildly and with a strangled curse, finally dove for cover behind the rusted out bulk of a junked car.   
‘Good God man, are you trying to get shot?’ Buck groused.  
Ezra shot him a sheepish look across the open area between them and shook his head. ‘Sorry.’  
Buck waved his hand. ‘Yeah, whatever. We need to get better cover. One of those fraggers has grenades.’ He peeked over the hood of his own wreck trying to spot the enemy.   
‘I got ya,’ Vin spoke up. The crack of his Draganov was the signal for Ezra to move. He took off at a dead run and slid behind Buck’s cover with a manic grin.   
‘Thank you, kind sir.’ Ezra waited until Vin shot again and then he dashed for the doorway of the building . He ducked as he stepped into the open space and quickly scanned the area for any targets. ‘All clear,’ he called to Buck. He turned back and cursed as he was peppered with fragments of plascrete when a stray round ricocheted off the lintel of the doorway.   
Buck ducked as another round slammed into the wall behind him. He chuckled at Ezra as the shaman spat out another curse. He spotted one of the men as he rose up and lobbed something toward them. Buck’s eyes widened and he shouted a warning as he hunkered down presenting as small a target as he could. But getting knocked ass over tea kettle was a pretty good indication that it hadn’t been small enough. He laid still trying to catch his breath while his shoulder felt like it had been hit by troll juiced on 2XS. What the fuck had hit him?   
The real pain hadn’t started yet, but he knew it was coming. Knew that if he didn’t get on top of it right now he would be screaming like a girl and of utterly no use to his team. He felt a tug on his ankle and rolled his head slightly so he could see what had a hold of him. Ezra’s face was shiny with sweat despite the cooling night air. The shaman’s lips were moving but Buck couldn’t make out what he was saying over the roar of gunfire and the ringing in his ears. He seemed to want Buck to move. He thought about that for a moment, cringed at the certainty of pain that would come, but sprawled out in the open the way he was if he didn’t move he was gonna get shot again and that was just not on his dance card for the night. As the ringing started to fade away he became aware of the cacophony of voices over the com. The loudest was Lobo demanding a sit-rep. Following that was Falcon, calm voice narrating events like a commentator at an Urban Brawl game. Lobo again, urgent and clipped and then cutting across them all was Ace, his voice sharp, biting a warning.  
Another tug at his ankle urged him to move. He winced as his body slid across the rough pavement, his armor catching on debris that littered the ground. He tried to move his arm to leverage himself up so he could crawl but it hung useless by his side. He gritted his teeth and rolled to the other side pressing his belly to the ground. He kept as low as possible, muscles twitching as bullets whizzed around him. Lift up a couple inches with his toes and reaching up with his good hand to drag his body forward. A moment later his questing hand was gripped in a warm firm grasp and looking up into   
Ezra’s fierce gaze, the fear and pain faded away. Behind Ezra, he could see JD scrambling over debris in a desperate bid to get to them. The rigger’s drones followed him like he was the fucking Pied Piper or a momma duck and Buck giggled hysterically at the thought. JD would punch his lights out if he called him momma. He mouthed the words at Ezra who grinned back. From the sour look on JD’s face as he reached them and helped Nathan haul him away deeper into the safety of the shadows maybe he had actually said it out loud. Buck shrugged and then groaned as pain clawed at the hole in his shoulder. He barely had time to turn his head before the contents of his stomach made an abrupt departure. JD supported his head, keeping his face out of the mess and Buck repented of making fun of his room mate. Buck’s eyes drifted shut and when they opened again, it was Josiah’s grizzled face looking down at him with a tired, grim set to his mouth. His shoulder was burning and throbbing in time with his heartbeat and he knew if he looked the wound would be closed with tight puckered pink skin where the hole had been but barely enough healing to keep him from bleeding out. Behind the mage he could see JD gesturing wildly and hear the muttered half of an argument. Finally the decker threw his hands up and exchanged a look with Josiah.   
“We’re fine. Go,” the dwarf said. “Ezra and I have this.”   
JD shot Buck a fierce glare. “Don’t you dare fragging die on me, Stud!” He nodded to Josiah and took off at a run. 

O*O  
Fagetti pushed his way through the passage, both shoulders rubbing against the wall leaving a gory trail of blood and charred flesh behind him. There was no more pain, a fact that had that faint voice in the back of his head screaming a warning. He ignored it; of course he was hurt! One look at the blackened peeling skin of his arms, chest and legs would tell even a moronic troll that much. But the rage and terror consuming him drowned out that little voice.   
Only one thing mattered now and that was getting to his stash so he could kill that son of a bitch, Lobo. A vein in his temple throbbed as he thought about the sammy. The man had unholy luck and had been a thorn in his side for far to long. But his time had come and by the time he was done the Seventh would be a watchword for disaster and ruin.  
He snarled as the breeze blew the scent of singed hair and skin back in his face. Need to plan a special party for their little mage. He paused searching his memories for a name.... Preacher, Priest? Something like that. No matter, the fucking dwarf would be screaming for his God’s mercy soon enough. 

O*O   
Chris looked up as JD stepped into the room. The kid seemed to be holding up despite having just left the tender hands of Potshot. He fought down a surge of guilt at even allowing JD and Nathan to be there.   
The decker paused for a second as his armored jacket got hung up on the shattered door and he had to tug to get free. His mouth twisted into a wry grin at the sight of a size 11 boot print next to the doorknob. “Bad door... no doughnut,” he snarked.   
Chris snorted and turned his attention back to the window. His grey eyes narrowed as he studied the warehouse across the street. “Prophet’s pet said Fagetti went that way. I need you to send one of your drones in there to track him.”   
“’kay. Got any more intel than that? Aerial or ground?”

Chris shrugged. “No idea. All Sparky said was that way. Best plan for both.” He shot the boy a fierce grin. “Just find me that bastard so I can pump him fulla lead.” He laughed as JD snapped his teeth like the savage little critter he was. Fresh outta the hospital or not, it didn’t pay to underestimate his team mate. He clapped a hand on the kid’s shoulder and steered him out the door. 

O*O

It had been months since Fagetti had been in this safe room and he had forgotten how much of a stench the constant moisture and still air combined left as mold and mildew grew unchecked. The fine layer of dust showed that nobody else had been here though so everything was still in place. His staggering footsteps stirred up a small cloud as he walked across the room to a work table that ran the length of the wall and the resulting wheezing as he gasped for breath made his lungs and chest ache. Leaning against the table he waited for his breathing to ease then pulled down a box from the overhead shelf and opened it. Five rows of ammo filled the crate. Five rows of ammo filled the crate. They were a mixed lot of APDS, both explosive and incendiary rounds, and his personal favorite, capsule rounds. He lifted one from the box and smiled nastily. This would do nicely and the slow acting poison encased in the tip would insure that even a graze got the job done. 

O*O  
JD shivered as Chris’s hand brushed across the matte black steel of his chassis.   
“You gonna be ok, Ferret?” Chris asked. He turned to look at the kid sitting so still in his riggers harness and then back at the drone as a chuckle came from its speakers.   
“Yeah Lobo, I’m fine. Trust me.” It took him a couple seconds to answer since his brain was busy processing the double image and multiple view points as he looked at the team leader through both the drone camera and his meat eyes.   
He closed his eyes to reduce the lag time and fired up the drone. The steady thrum of the power plant pulsed like a heart beat and the air slipping along his ailerons made him yearn for the open sky. Not this time. It was more likely their prey had gone to ground rather than up high. He’s small and fast and deadly; small enough to fit into narrow places, fast enough to chase down prey, deadly enough to be sent out alone. As long as his meat body is safe. So Chris tucks him away safe in a closet and stands guard while he stalks their enemy, tracks him down to his lair. He won’t attack this time, just find and report.   
Activating the stealth setting he crossed the street. He spun in place when he realized the sheer devastation the firefight has left in its wake. Small fires smoldered and smoked on both sides of the street, halfway down the block a van had been crushed, cubes of safety glass surrounding it like a sparkling fairy circle, and bodies littered the sidewalks, macabre dolls dropped in place, limbs sprawled akimbo laying in blood pools that sucked up what little light the streetlights and fires put out. But there was no time for more than that one brief glance. He had a job to do, and Chris would not be pleased if he lingered sightseeing. Moving on he slipped into the warehouse. The trail of bloodied footprints was ridiculously easy to follow and the occasional hand print on the walls glowed faintly under the infra red setting on his cameras. He moved deeper into the warehouse threading his way past shipping containers and heavy equipment. He lost the trail for a few minutes and had to back track and look more carefully. About to give up he heard a faint squeak. He turned and looked into the deep shadow that shrouded the crevice between two massive boxes. A small image flared hot against the cool surroundings. It took only a moment to identify it as a rat gnawing blood and charred flesh off a crate. He slipped down the narrow isle until it opened out onto a corridor that ran the length of the warehouse. A gaping hole in the wall beckoned. The rubble around it looked fresh. Spitting his attention he powered up the drone he left with Chris. “Lobo, warehouse is clear. Looks like he has made a little escape route in the far wall. I’m following the trail now.”   
“Roger that. Watch your six.”   
“Will do.” Ferret shut down the drone and moved back to his CD Wolfhound VT. Cautiously he approached and checked for booby traps. Nothing. He moved through the breech and headed down the narrow tunnel. It was so quiet down here. The only noise was the constant drip of water and the movements of the occasional rat. It wasn’t very long before he heard louder movement ahead and as he approached he could also hear muttering. He could also detect a chemical trace in the air. The onboard computer sampled it and spit out an analysis that made him hiss. Human tissue, hemoglobin, charcoal, various pain killers and what-me-worries, and gun powder. He still needed a visual confirmation but JD was pretty damn sure they had the son of a bitch. He drove the drone up to hover just below the ceiling and extended an arm to peer into the room. Even from this angle he was able to positively identify Fagetti. Shit the man looked beat to hell and back but he was still far to dangerous to engage along. He retracted the arm and retreated to a safe distance. “Target acquired.”   
“Ferret, jack out.”  
The tone of voice that came over the comm was all he needed to know something was wrong. He carefully flew back down the passage and up into the rafters of the warehouse. It would be safe enough here until he could come back and pick up the drone.   
JD opened his eyes and jacked out. His body trembled as it was overwhelmed by the returning surge of sensations that always accompanied the return of his consciousness to his meat body. Everything seemed duller and he felt confined and cramped for those first few seconds.  
Chris was waiting impatiently for him to settle, he knew that and yeah it took a few moments to get use to having nothing but normal human senses, but at least he wasn’t having to deal with dump shock. Three deep breaths and three beats of his heart and he was ready. Finally back in sync, he looked up. Chris was looming over him with a stoic look on his face. Drek! It was bad when he got that look. “What happened?” he snapped.  
“Ace collapsed. Go relive DT and have him go help Prophet while you spot for Falcon.”  
“What about...”   
Energy almost crackled around Chris as he glared at JD. “You let me worry about Fagetti. Now, move it, double time!”   
JD was scrambling for the door before he had time to think. He glanced back once and sure enough Chris was still watching him with that ‘don’t make me tear your throat out with my teeth’ look. But if Ferret was anything, he was sassy. He stuck his tongue out as he slid past the door and then grinned at the answering bark of laughter.   
O*O  
Chris reloaded while he waited for everyone to get into place. When he heard Nathan greet Josiah, he holstered his weapons, took a deep breath and stepped into the street. He glanced up at the roof top where Vin was standing and made eye contact with the elf. Words had never been necessary between he and his second. From the moment they met all they had ever needed was a single look. Now, looking up at his friend, he knew his team was safe in Vin’s hands and if he didn’t come back, well the team would survive and yes even prosper.   
“Good huntin’, Lobo.”   
He nodded and Vin touched the brim of his old cavalry hat in return.   
O*O  
Whether it was a change in the air or the sound of a faint footstep Fagetti couldn’t say but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Lobo was coming for him. His lip curled, baring his teeth in a snarl as the blood thundered through his veins. He couldn’t feel his hands anymore but at least there was no pain to distract him. All he had left was this one thing, reverberating through his mind like a chant. Kill Lobo. Nothing else mattered now. Just survive long enough to take out the other man and he would walk through the gates of hell with a laugh.   
O*O  
Chris drew his weapon and scanned the HUD as his smartlink came online. The Predators felt good in his hands, heavy enough to keep down recoil, light enough not to fatigue him too much in a long firefight. He had ADPS rounds loaded which would punch right through any body armor Fagetti might be sporting, although with what Ferret had reported he wasn’t sure if the other man would even be able to tolerate the weight given the shape he was in after Prophet sent that fire elemental in. Threading his way through the warehouse he followed the faint trail left by first Fagetti and then Ferret’s drone until he got to the reinforced door in the back wall.  
He stopped and carefully checked the area for any signs of disturbance. He wouldn’t put it past the hitman to have set up booby traps along the way to his bolthole. Sure enough he spotted the first one easily, a simple trigger plate set in the ground just inside the doorway. The second one took a bit more work to find and even more to disarm. He took his time to work through both. If there was anything his time in the Army had taught him it was this, ‘Slow is smooth, smooth is fast, fast is lethal.’ so he didn’t rush it. Fagetti wasn’t going anywhere anyway. He was as invested in ending this shit as Chris was. He would wait. And once he was down, it was the Dom’s turn. Because he would be damned if he let that son of a bitch live after this. Then all they would have to worry about was corrupt corps, bad intel and Vin’s coffee.   
Click... There, safe to move on. He slipped through the door and moved quietly down the narrow corridor.   
The first thing he noticed was a sour stench overlaid with mold and mildew. The second was the constant drip of water that cut through the silence. His skin shivered as a cold drop landed on his neck and slid under his armored jacket. The narrow passage was dimly lit, the floor slick with moisture and the walls rough with patches of mold and what looked like bits of paper stuck in the crevices. Curiosity got the better of him so he stepped up and took a closer look. The smell of burnt flesh and blood filled his nostrils and he stumbled back rubbing frantically at his nose. He fought the urge to turn around and get out, the temptation to just let nature take its course and finish off Fagetti almost overwhelming his resolve to finish this once and for all. He stood there for a long moment fighting a vicious silent battle with himself. Then, just as if he was still standing there getting his ass reamed for the mistake that took out half his team the last week of Q, he could hear his training instructor's voice echoing in his head... ‘Never leave a live enemy on your back trail, knucklehead!’ Squaring his shoulders he moved on.  
The leather of his jacket rasped against the plascrete dislodging bits of charred skin as he pushed his way down the hall. His nose wrinkled in disgust and he was heartily thankful for his jacket. Just the thought of touching those walls with his bare skin made his stomach lurch. He hurried along, anxious to have more room to maneuver. Stepping through the door he had no more than a second to see the room before there was a blinding flash of light and a shock wave knocked him on his ass. His ears rang from the accompanying explosion.   
A line of fire crossed his cheek followed by a gush of blood. He shouted and threw his arms up covering his face and throat as he scrambled backward searching for cover. Again a bright flash of pain erupted dipping over his shoulder and back down to his forearm. He could feel the blood flowing but he couldn’t see anything past the flashing colors of the after image from the stun grenade. Sight and hearing compromised, his mind worked furiously seeking someway to protect himself until he recovered enough to fight back. He bumped into something, its sharp corner digging into his back. Gasping for air, he cringed as another slash caught him across his legs. He was starting to make out vague shapes as he dove for cover behind what his hands told him was some kind of crate. It wasn’t large enough to completely hide him but it was certainly better than nothing. Pulling his legs up he curled up as best he could and pulled his weapons. If he could just hold Fagetti off for a few more seconds his eyesight would adjust allowing him to fight. The fire touched his back leaving a long line of agony in its wake. This time he couldn’t hold back the scream that forced it’s way past gritted teeth. Tears flooded his eyes and he choked back another scream as they hit the gash in his cheek. A muffled laugh came from a vague figure moving toward him. He raised his pistol and fired. He couldn’t be sure that he hit anything but at least the figure had moved back. The lash fell again and it was all he could do not to drop his weapon and curl up in a ball as the skin on his hands and arm split.   
Every muscle in his body spasmed as another line of fire crossed his back and wrapped around his ribs to his chest. Feebly he looked up and at last was able to make out the figure of a man standing over him monofilament whip in hand and a savage snarl warping his face. His hands shook as he tried to aim and it was nothing but sheer stubborn will that allowed his trigger finger to apply enough pressure to fire. Fagetti fell back as the round burst through his shoulder and out his back. He dropped the whip and roared loud enough for Chris to hear him past the ringing in his ears.   
Pushing past the pain Chris rose to his feet in time to see Fagetti stiff arm a section of the wall that gave way allowing him to evade Chris’s lunge. The door snapped shut behind him blending in so well to the rest of the wall that if Chris hadn’t seen it he would never have known it was there. Figures the son of a bitch wouldn’t let himself be cornered.   
Agony flared as he moved reminding him he needed to patch himself up before he tried to do any more. Somewhere in his combat pouch he knew DT had stocked a few trauma and stim patches. He dug them out and peeled off the backing, heaving a sigh of relief as the pain killers went to work. Of course patches were nothing more than a stop gap and he needed to get back so Prophet and DT could fix him up properly, but he had to finish the job first.   
He cautiously approached the door and checked it carefully for bobby traps. Fagetti had caught him off guard before but he’d be damned if it was going to happen a second time. He didn’t find a damn thing. Satisfied it was safe enough he eased the door open and looked around. Instead of the passage way he expected the door opened into a second room, this one crowded with boxes and pallets of equipment. There was no sight of the hit man so he stepped inside and silently closed the door until it rested against the frame. Moving as quietly as possible he hunted amongst the items that crowded the room until a shot rang out as he turned a corner. Throwing himself backward into cover he crouched down and risked a quick peek to try and spot his opponent. Fagetti had wedged himself in behind a large steel desk, his face set in a savage snarl. From the condition of his face and what little Chris could see of his arms, death would probably be a mercy. Although a good surgeon would be able to repair the damage the hit man wasn’t going to see any one but a medical examiner if he had anything to say about it.   
Chris thought about saying something, about giving the man a chance to surrender, but the memory of JD lying so still in the hospital killed any compassion he might have. As his daddy use to say, some folks just need killin. Chris rose to his feet, stepped out from behind the crate and fired as he darted for the next bit of cover. He pressed his back against a large box and waited for a moment. Why hadn’t the other man shot? Chris was so close now he could hear Fagetti breathing, a harsh rasping pant forced past split and bleeding lips. Stiffening his back he spun and side stepped until he was looking Fagetti in the eyes. A muzzle flash flared and something punched him in the gut. He staggered back with a grunt snarling at the malicious smile on the the other man’s face. Fagetti laughed, blood slowly trickling down his chin as Chris slowly straightened up to his full height. Chris glared and emptied the clip of one of his Predators into the hitman’s chest. Agony flared in his gut over riding the pain killers flooding his system, but he wasn’t going to take the chance of this son of a bitch coming back. He forced himself to move forward until the barrel of his other weapon was pressed firmly into the bridge of Fagetti’s nose then he pulled the trigger.   
Chris felt his shoulders slump as he staggered back until his back hit a crate. He slid down slowly scowling as his ass hit the cold plascrete floor. Exhaustion washed over him like a tidal wave and his head drooped. He would just close his eyes for a moment to rest then he would get up and get back to his team.   
He should be in agony, but with the heavy pain killers from the patch all he really felt was numb. Just a few more minutes...  
O*O  
“Lobo? Answer me damn it...”   
Vin waited another heartbeat or two but there was still no answer.   
“Fuck this. Ferret, you’re with me.” Vin slung his rifle over one shoulder and headed for the stairs at a fast jog. Behind him he could hear the decker running to catch up. The two men ran down the stairs leaping from landing to landing as quick as possible and once they reached the street JD moved to take the lead.   
JD led the way into a warehouse at the end of the block and barely slowed down as they threaded the narrow walkway between stacks of pallets. The decker was moving so fast that Vin almost lost him when he ducked down a side way, only his phys ad abilities allowing him to twist his body into the sudden ninety degree turn instead of slamming face first into a crate. Ten long strides later the space opened out onto a wider aisle that ran the length of the warehouse. Without hesitation JD turned right and dashed for a doorway that gaped open.   
Vin followed right on JD’s heels barely taking more than a cursory glance at their surroundings. The area at the end of the hall was blacked and still smoking as they neared the next doorway, but JD didn’t even falter as he ran through it into a large mostly barren room. He skidded to a halt at the sight of a mono-whip lying abandoned on the floor.   
“Oh frag!” he stared at the whip’s blood stained length. “Do you think...” he paused and shot Vin a side glance.   
Vin shook his head. "I'd know. He's alive."   
“Than were is he?”   
Vin thought about it for a moment. His combat sense told him that Chris was nearby, they hadn’t seen him leave the warehouse and it wasn't like the sammy could just disappear into thin air, so where the hell was he? “Prophet, you got any mojo left?”   
The dwarf’s voice was calm as he replied. “Some, what do you need?”   
“We got a dead end room here and no sign of Lobo, but I can tell he is nearby. Need an astral recon.”   
It was quiet for a few moments, long enough for Vin to start to wonder if maybe the mage wasn’t up to it.   
“On my way.”  
Vin smiled in relief.   
O*O  
Josiah sighed. He was bone deep tired but their leader was obviously in trouble. He dug deep to find the energy to cast his spirit into the astral. It should be easy, a simple trance and then step sideways out of the meat and into the endless expanse of astral space. But the body only had so much energy and his had largely been spent. Sleep tugged at his mind but he pushed it aside. Lobo needed them and if it had been he who was missing the sammy would have moved heaven or hell to find him no matter how tired he was. Josiah could give no less. Nathan squatted down beside him and held out a canteen. He lifted an eyebrow and took a swig. His eyebrows lifted so fast he was almost surprised they didn’t leave a smoke trail. Pure liquid fire ran down his throat leaving a trail of numb warmth in it’s wake. Gasping for breath he stared at the medic. “What the hell is that?”   
Nathan smiled wryly. “A little something Potshot gave me. Tír na nÓgian Fire Wine with a caffeine chaser.”   
Josiah’s eyes widened as a rush of vigor spread from his belly outward. He could feel the surge of restored mana flowing through his body. “There is more than just caffeine in that, DT. This helps a great deal. Thank you.”   
Nathan nodded. “She said it doesn’t last long, so hurry.”   
The mage didn’t waste time answering, he simply settle his hands in his lap and closed his eyes. Stepping into the astral was invigorating. He stretched and looked around to make sure there was nothing hostile standing around waiting for him. Satisfied that the coast was clear he stepped out of his body and with a thought joined his team mates in the room. There were no wards in the area to worry about; a point that illustrated just how stupid Fagetti had been. Surely the man had know that the Seventh had not one, but two active spell worms. Between them Ace and he could have taken the man out without any risk to the rest of the team... if they had been at full power. Which with the overwhelming forces arrayed against them they hadn’t been. In truth they had been stretched to the breaking point so perhaps he did the hit man a disservice in thinking him an idiot. Neither mages nor shamans were invincible as the day had so amply shown. Still the lack of wards made things easier and he was on borrowed time. Approaching the walls he ran a incorporeal hand along the bricks and pushed. Halfway down the third wall his hand fell through. He grinned and stepped forward into another space and there slumped against a large box he found Chris. Blood ran sluggishly down his arms, chest and off his broad shoulders to puddle on the ground beneath him and his aura flared and stuttered a dull muddy grey green. Seriously alarmed Josiah returned to his body and opened his eyes.   
“Falcon. Go to the back wall and look for the door twelve steps from the right. Push and it it will open to another room. Lobo is there and hurry, he looks bad. We need to get him to Potshot quickly. “  
Vin was moving before the mage even stopped speaking.   
The door was right were Josiah said it would be and Vin wasted no time getting it open. JD propped it open while Vin checked on Chris.   
The sammy was a mess. Vin knelt beside him and lightly smacked his cheek to bring him around. “Come on Lobo, we need to get you outta here, so you gotta wake up for me.”   
JD frowned when there was no response. “Falcon, I got a bad feeling about this.”  
Vin nodded. “Let’s get him up.” He draped one of Chris’ arms over his shoulder and wait until JD did the same, then with a nod they lifted and pulled their leader up. “DT, Lobo is down. We’re bringing him out. Meet us at the warehouse entrance.”   
The two men carried Chris out to the street and laid him down so Nathan could start working on him. Once Nathan and Josiah got started Vin grabbed JD’s arm and pulled him away.   
“I need you to go the City Master and get back here. We all need medical so hurry.” He shook his head in amusement as JD took off at a dead run. When was the last time he had that much energy? 

O*O  
Potshot sighed heavily and rubbed her eyes as she made her way to the small waiting room that was made even smaller by the presence of the five large men who waited anxiously for news. As for the other two team members, one slept under heavy sedation following the surgery to repair the gut wound that almost killed him and the other was bitching up a storm and attempting to charm her nurse into letting him leave. She snorted, Buck was a charming man to be sure, but he had met his match in Vanessa. He might be pretty but her nurse played for a different team and he would get no where although it was vastly amusing to watch him try.  
Pausing in the hallway she leaned up against the wall and closed her eyes for just a moment. Damn she really needed a massage after nine hours on her feet with her hands deep in the gut of a man she admired above all others. She winced at the ache deep in her back. It had taken all her skill to repair the damage to Lobo’s body and even still had almost lost him to poison. Thank God her nurse had spotted the broken capsule hidden by the blood. If he hadn’t seen it... She shook her head, under no delusion as to the outcome. Squaring her shoulders, she pushed off the wall and opened the door.   
As she walked into the room Falcon straightened and took a deep breath as though bracing himself for bad news.   
“They are both going to be a pain in the ass to keep down, you know,” she said wryly and then smiled at the relief in their eyes. 

Epilog  
“Never leave a life enemy on your back trail.” ~ Capt. William Roque ~ UCAS Army Special Forces

Federal Judge Owen Travis set his coffee cup down as a news cast on the trid caught his attention.   
“In other news, prominent business man Paulo D’Agostino was found dead this morning in his Denver mansion, apparent victim of an organized crime hit. The lead investigator at Lonestar Securities declined to give a statement, saying only that they had several leads that they were following at this time.   
SAiC Jason Sackett of the UCAS FBI, who has been leading a taskforce looking into allegations of organised crime in Mr. D’Agostio’s various businesses, was also not available for comment at this time.   
Mr. D’Agostino is survived by his wife, Julia. A spokesmen for the family issued a statement saying they have faith in Lonestar and they are anxious for the perpetrator to be found and brought to justice.”   
Owen sat back and contemplated the dark brew in his cup before glancing out the window at the swing set on the lawn where his grandson Billy was playing. The boy was playing some kind of game with his nanny while his two body guards kept a look out. Owen smiled as Billy tagged his playmate and ran away giggling. Sparing one more glance at the trid the judge rose to his feet, switched off the machine and strode out the french doors to join his grandson.


End file.
